


i'll follow you, follow you home

by annemari



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Casual drinking, Domestic, Head Injury, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Secret Relationship, talking about coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annemari/pseuds/annemari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Nick should be prepared for this. He absolutely should be prepared for this, is sure he's even thought about this moment before. But he didn't sleep that well, and it's a Friday, and he dashed home after the show this morning because Louis said, "Just call me, Nick." Said he'd be waiting up, and he didn't care it was almost three in the morning in LA.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>So, yeah. Nick isn't prepared for Harry to answer Louis's phone.</i>
</p>
<p>The one where Nick and Louis are in a secret relationship, Louis gets hurt on tour, and they both realise they have some things they need to figure out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll follow you, follow you home

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in April after a conversation with **greedy_dancer**. It's finally done. \o/
> 
> This takes place during a fictional tour in 2015.
> 
> Thank you so much to **hllangel** and **trinity_clare** for being amazing betas, and **onthehill** for being a great britpicker! Thank you also to **greedy_dancer** for encouraging me to finish this and being my sounding board in the early stages of this.  <333 Title from Taylor Swift's "Treacherous".

Nick should be prepared for this. He absolutely should be prepared for this, is sure he's even thought about this moment before. But he didn't sleep that well, and it's a Friday, and he dashed home after the show this morning because Louis said, "Just call me, Nick." Said he'd be waiting up, and he didn't care it was almost three in the morning in LA. 

So, yeah. Nick isn't prepared for Harry to answer Louis's phone.

"Nick?" Harry says again, and Nick tries to not choke on his breath. Pig barks at him, because this is the only time of day she's actually looking forward to her walk.

"Nick, that _is_ you, right?" Harry asks.

"Yes," Nick manages to get out. "Sorry, yes, hey, hi there! Harry! Uh, how are you?"

"Nick," Harry says slowly. "Why are you calling Louis's phone at three in the morning?"

Because Louis has trouble sleeping and Nick misses him _all the time_. Nick doesn't say that, though.

"What?" he asks. "Wait, this is Louis's phone? I was calling you!"

Harry doesn't say anything for a moment. Nick holds his breath and waits. "What?" Harry asks. His voice sounds rough. Maybe he'd been asleep. Why the hell does he have Louis's phone?

"Yeah," Nick says as brightly as he can manage. "Just thought I'd call, check up on you. You okay? What's up? What is happening in beautiful LA?"

"Nick, I don't understand," Harry says. "How did you...why did you call _Louis_?"

Nick tugs at his hair and looks down at Pig. She barks at him and Nick shushes her. He has no idea what to _say_.

"Nick?"

"Call or delete!" Nick says, suddenly remembering he has the perfect excuse for shit like this. Perfect. Why didn't he remember it before? "That was it, ha, you got me." He forces a fake laugh that he hopes doesn't sound too unhinged. Louis is going to _kill_ him.

"But you're not at the studio," Harry says reasonably. "I heard Pig."

Nick just gives up. "Good catch," he says. "Uh, it was a trial run!"

"That doesn't make any—"

"Gotta go, need to walk Pig! Talk to you later, bye!" He hangs up before Harry has the chance to say anything else.

Fuck. Fuck, Louis is going to kill him.

~

Nick spends the next five minutes pacing his flat, Pig hot on his heels. He's not a complete fool, he knows there's no way Harry won't figure it out. Or, well, at least figure _something_ out. He has no idea how to even _begin_ to apologise, why did he ever agree to keep it secret, to keep it secret from _everyone_?

He knows why, of course. Because Louis asked him to. Because Louis looked scared and frazzled and promised it wouldn't be forever. Because Nick didn't know how to ask whether he meant the secrets or _them_. Because Louis sometimes clung to him in the mornings—still half asleep, but so strong—trying to stop Nick from leaving. Because just last week Louis said they should start telling people, just, "Let's go slow, yeah? I don't want to give Haz a heart attack."

Well, it's possible Harry's having one right now. Nick sort of doubts it. Mostly he figures Harry will be angry, with good reason. Fuck.

His phone goes off with Louis's ringtone and Nick hopes to god it really is Louis on the line. He's not taking any chances, though. He answers with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Nick," Harry says, voice rough. "What the fuck?"

Fuck.

"Fuck," Nick says. "Harry, I am _so_ sorry, fuck, I swear we were going to—it's just—"

"Stop," Harry says.

"There wasn't a good time and I know that's a shit excuse, fuck, fuck excuses, okay—"

"Nick, stop."

"I am _so_ sorry, I'll never—"

"Nick!" Harry says, raising his voice in a shout. "Stop, oh my god."

"But I—"

"Nick, mate, you need to listen," someone else says, and is that Liam? Harry's put him on speakerphone? Where the fuck is Louis?

"I—" Nick starts, but Harry cuts him off again.

"Nick, look, I don't know what's going on, okay? I do know that there's a possibility I'm forever emotionally scarred by the last text you sent to Louis—"

"I definitely am," Niall puts in, while Nick splutters, feeling his face flush.

"You went through his texts?" he hisses. Louis's going to kill them. Then he'll probably kill Nick. Get rid of all the evidence. No loose ends, that sort of thing.

"No," Harry says, sounding affronted. "Just the last one, I just wanted to see if—we weren't going to read all his private stuff, just—"

"The one was enough," Niall says, and laughs, but it doesn't sound very cheery. Nick is so fucked. He fucked it up for Louis, and it is all _so_ fucked. He needs to talk to Louis.

"Look," he says. "I know we fucked up, but I—"

"Nick, you're not _listening_ ," Harry says, sounding young and admonishing and so very Harry.

"Well you're not _saying_ anything," Nick says, and wraps his arm around his stomach. He might be sick.

"Louis's hurt," Harry says.

Nick blinks. He breathes in. He keeps breathing. He digs his fingers into his side and keeps breathing, because Harry sounds—

"What do you mean?" Nick asks. "What do you—hurt _how_?"

"His head," Harry says. "He got knocked out." Now Nick can hear it, can put all the pieces together: why Harry's voice sounded rough and why he picked up Louis's phone and why Nick's currently on speakerphone to all of One Direction except Louis.

"But—" Nick starts. But he talked to Louis last night. It was early afternoon in LA and he talked to Louis then, he was _fine_. "Is he—how bad is it? He's _okay_ , right?" His voice breaks on the last word, but he doesn't care.

"He's going to be fine," Harry says quickly. "The doctors say he's going to be fine."

Nick closes his eyes. He sways a bit, and reaches a hand out and oh, yeah, wall. Nice wall. Nick's very glad someone put a wall there.

"Just. Tell me what's going on."

"Part of the lighting rig fell down when we were checking out the venue," says Zayn. His voice is rough and Nick has to strain to hear it. He pretty sure he's going to throw up. "He—it could've been worse, I—"

"Zayn pushed him out of the way," Liam says. "He got knocked out when they fell. Hit a ramp, sliced his head open a bit." Nick tries not to throw up. "But it could've—well. Been a lot worse. They say he's going to be okay."

"But?" Nick asks. "There's a but. Fuck. Isn't there?"

"Not exactly," Liam hedges, and Nick doesn't have time for that.

"Harry?"

"He—" Harry starts, voice low. "He's in a coma right now."

That's it, Nick's going to pass out.

"But they say he'll wake up soon! Like, really soon, they say his head is going to be fine, and, like, his brain is—"

"His brain is fine," Liam says. "They don't think there's going to be any damage, and yeah, he'll wake up soon."

"How soon?" Nick asks.

"I don't know," Liam confesses. "They won't say. But it's not—"

"We should probably tell him it happened only a couple of hours ago," Niall cuts in. "We're in the hospital right now. They've just stitched him up. He'll probably wake up tomorrow."

"You don't know that for sure," says Zayn.

"Sure I do," says Niall, and Nick wonders if they're going to argue about it, but all he hears is some shuffling, and then Harry says, "Nick? Are you—like, okay?"

Nick takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. The wall is still doing a pretty good job of holding him up. He looks down and sees Pig sitting in front of him, head tilted to the side as if in question. There's a soft toy next to her: a squirrel she's completely destroyed by now, the nose and eyes long gone. Louis got it for her.

There's an extra toothbrush in the bathroom that Louis "forgot" here and some of Louis's shirts are lost somewhere in Nick's closet, and when Louis makes tea for himself he always picks the same mug.

Nick swallows hard and closes his eyes again. "Can I come and see him?"

There's a pause. Nick presses a hand against his eyes and waits. He doesn't think about Louis lying in a hospital bed half a world away from him. He doesn't.

"Are you sure?" Harry asks.

Nick lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah. I—yeah."

"Okay," Harry says. "I think we can work something out."

~

It's not that easy, of course, but they make it happen. At two pm Nick is on a flight out to LA. He's not sure what kind of strings Harry pulled to get him there; sometimes the influence the band has is surreal even to him.

Nick closes his eyes when the plans takes off and holds on to the armrests. He's not afraid of flying. He's tired. He's tired, he almost missed the flight, had to rush over with no time to pack properly after Harry sent him the info, and he's _scared_. Harry's last text said, _He's still out, but doing well they say! See you soon_.

Thing is, Nick knows there are probably a ton of really good doctors making sure Louis will be okay. The perks of being in an internationally successful boyband, and all. He knows Louis will probably be fine. But he also knows that head injuries are awful and Louis is in what Harry called a _coma_ , and anything could happen. So, yeah, Nick is bricking it.

He waits until they're allowed to use electronics, then pulls out his iPod and tries to find an appropriate playlist. There's none for "my secret boyfriend is in a coma and I'm dropping everything to fly out to be with him". Seems unfair.

He's not dropping much, thankfully. It's a Friday, he doesn't have any work to do this weekend. He cancelled Saturday's plans with Daisy and Pixie easily, dropped Pig off at Emily's and promised to explain properly later. Really, Louis couldn't have picked a better time to get hurt. The thought makes something rise in Nick's throat. He swallows, breathes in slowly, and scrolls to Drake on his iPod. Whatever, he's feeling emotional.

He gets to LA at five in the afternoon, car waiting for him. He hopes no one notices him flying in—the paps certainly don't care—but he's not counting on it. All it takes is one person with a camera phone.

It's like he goes through the airport in a daze; he's not even sure how he makes it to the car. The streets of LA rush by him as they head straight for the hospital, the sun starting to creep lower and lower.

Harry hasn't texted him yet. Nick wonders if they're busy dealing with the public finding out about Louis. There's no way they don't know yet. They always find out.

He also wonders if Louis has woken up yet. He bloody well has to wake up, Nick's come all this way to see him. It's only polite.

Then again, that's not a word Nick would attribute to Louis without some caveats.

Nick's phone buzzes.

_Hi, good flight? I'll have someone meet you at the basement car park, we're in the waiting room. X"_

Not woken up yet, then. The thought makes Nick's chest feel hollow. He stares at the X. At least Harry's not _that_ angry at him, then. Either that, or he should stop reading into text messages. He'll find out soon enough.

~

Harry hugs him when he gets to the waiting room. It's unexpected, but _so_ fucking welcome.

Nick whispers an apology into Harry's hair, he can't help it. He's been shit, he feels like shit. Harry squeezes him tight before stepping back.

"You look terrible," he says, and Nick laughs.

"And you always look amazing after a ten hour flight," Nick teases. "Proper popstar."

Harry smiles and Nick is just so _relieved_. He knows he still owes Harry an explanation, and probably more, to be fair, but Harry's—he's _Harry_. Too good for this world, and all that, but he's never naive and never too trusting and the fact that he's still smiling at Nick like that means a lot. Harry's one of his best friends.

"Hey, Grimmy," says someone and Nick starts and looks over to the chairs in the waiting room. It's Niall, and he gives Nick a little wave.

Nick nods back and turns to Harry. "So, he hasn't woken up yet?"

Harry shakes his head. "I mean, he did open his eyes for a moment and they say his brain activity is okay and stuff. Like it's not a coma coma, you know?"

"Not really," Nick says. All that Harry's saying sounds good, it sounds like Louis's going to be just fine, but there's still tension in Nick's stomach and a vague sense of panic creeping somewhere around in his brain.

"Can I see him?"

Harry pauses for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, of course. Zayn and Liam are there now, they said we shouldn't crowd the room when he wakes up, but, well, he's not awake yet. Come on, I'll take you. Niall?"

"I'll stay," Niall says, leaning back in the chair. "Wait for Paul to get back with news."

"He okay?" Nick asks in a whisper as he follows Harry out the door and down the hall.

"Yeah," Harry says. "Just worried. He deals with it his own way, you gotta know when to give him space."

Nick nods. "Does the media know yet? I haven't even had time to check, god."

"Rumours," Harry says, and takes another turn into another hallway. Nick hasn't been paying any attention, he has no idea how to get back. "We have to make a statement soon, of course. It's going to be...intense."

"That's one word for it," Nick says, and Harry gives him a wry smile. He stops in front of a closed door and looks at Nick, expectant. Nick's not sure what he's waiting for.

"We haven't talked," Harry starts, "about, like. If you were spotted. If people find out you're here. I mean, I know we said, ha, whatever, they'll think you're here to see me, but when they hear about Louis being hurt..."

"They'll think I'm here for moral support or summat," Nick says. "For you. And it'll probably be a mess, but. I mean, no one's ever going to think anything about me and Louis. And we're—I mean." He sighs and looks at the door. "You know."

Harry's silent for a while. "Yeah," he says, eventually. "Okay."

He quietly knocks on the door twice and pushes it open. Nick follows him in, takes in the sight of Liam and Zayn both sitting by the bed, expressions serious, and then his eyes are on Louis and Nick doesn't know what to _do_.

"Oh, love," he says. His voice comes out embarrassingly choked. He walks up to the bed; there's a chair right at the side, curiously empty, and he sinks into it. Louis looks—sick. Hurt. So still. He doesn't look peaceful, like he usually does when he's asleep in Nick's bed. He looks tired and pale, and the bandage around his head makes Nick want to cry.

"He's going to be fine," Liam says. Nick stares at Louis. It's not like Louis is never still, he's not _always_ in motion—he can lounge on Nick's sofa and not move for hours, demanding Nick bring him snacks.

But he sleeps curled up, never on his back. He sleeps curled up next to _Nick_. Or, well, sometimes next to Pig, when she's managed to sneak into the bed again without Nick noticing.

He looks unnatural, lying here like this. Nick didn't expect it to hit him this hard. He was worried about him, sure, worried enough to fly all the way out here. He didn't even _think_. He just did it. He just needed to see Louis, and that's really bloody scary, but what's scarier are the grey bags under Louis's eyes, and how _exhausted_ he looks even in sleep. Nick hasn't seen him in weeks and he's about to start crying here in a hospital room in LA. He might be being a bit dramatic. It doesn't really make a difference.

"Nick," Harry says.

Nick shakes his head and tears his eyes away from Louis. He feels vaguely sick, his stomach twisting.

"Nick, you okay?" Liam asks.

"Fine," Nick says quickly. "I'm fine, me. Just knackered from the flight." He looks up and finds Liam, Zayn and Harry staring at him, faces all a different level of confused. "What?" he asks, feeling defensive. He's just tired.

"You really care about him," Liam says in wonder.

Nick raises his eyebrows. "No," he says. "I flew all the way out here because I don't care at all."

Liam looks kind of embarrassed, at least. Hell, it's not like Nick can blame him for thinking—whatever. None of them _knew_. God.

"Sorry," Liam says. "I didn't mean it like that, sorry."

Nick shakes his head, and shrugs. He feels all awkward and sick. "'S fine," he says. He looks around the room, eyes falling on Zayn. He has a bandage around his right wrist.

Nick remembers them mentioning that Zayn's the one who pushed Louis out of the way. Nick clears his throat awkwardly. "You okay, Zayn?"

Zayn starts, like he didn't expect Nick to speak to him. "Yeah," he says, looking up, his face unreadable. Well, mostly unreadable. Worried, clearly, but there's something else there that Nick's not sure he wants to analyse. "I'm fine."

"Sprained wrist," Liam says, and throws a casual arm around Zayn's shoulders. "Really, Nick, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to, like—I didn't mean anything by it. It's just, we didn't know. That, like. You and Louis. Didn't even know he was dating anyone." He shrugs awkwardly.

"I knew," Zayn says. Harry and Liam both turn to stare at him. Nick almost laughs at the expressions on their faces, a nervous chuckle.

"You did?" Liam asks.

"Not that he was going out with Nick," Zayn says. "Just that he was seeing someone. And I suspected it might be a bloke."

"Oh," Liam says. "How come I didn't know?"

Zayn shrugs.

"Didn't you?" he asks. "I mean, didn't you notice he was, like..."

"Different," Harry says quietly.

"I guess," Liam says. "I just—I guess I figured he'd tell us." He sounds weirdly lost. 

Nick feels uncomfortable and kind of like he should stand up for Louis, even though he knows it was shit to keep it hidden. It just felt private.

"I just can't figure out why he didn't say anything to us," Liam says.

"Maybe he had reasons not to." It's out before Nick realises he's opened his stupid mouth. Well, shit.

"Like what?" Liam asks, sounding indignant. "I mean, we all knew he liked blokes too. We didn't really talk about it, but we _knew_. Why wouldn't he talk to us about this?" Nick shakes his head. "What was your reason?" Liam presses. "I mean, Harry didn't know."

Nick hunches shoulders and stares at Louis. He really wishes Louis would wake up now. He could use the distraction. And, like, he could really use Louis right now.

It feels slightly unfair that Nick has to do this part all on his own. Then again Louis is hurt and is going to have to deal with the whole mess while Nick gets to fly back to London. Fuck.

In any case, Louis doesn't open his eyes. His breathing is even and steady and the quiet beeping of the machines attached to him is freaking Nick out. He _is_ going to wake up, right? Everyone's said he would.

"Nick," Harry says, voice gentle, and Nick looks up at him. Harry's face is open and kind and Nick thinks Harry should _hate_ him. Which, again, probably a bit dramatic, but still. Nick's really lucky.

"Can we go and talk somewhere?" Harry asks. "Just for a bit."

Nick looks down at Louis. No change there. His lips are chapped and his chin is covered in stubble. Nick reaches out and but pulls his hand back before he makes contact. "Okay," he says, and gets up.

~

They leave Zayn in the room with Louis, Liam saying that he's going to check up on Niall, give him a cuddle.

"I thought you said Niall wanted to be left alone?" Nick asks Harry.

"That was before," Harry says. Nick gives up on trying to make sense of this band and their strange mind-reading abilities.

Harry flags down a nurse and soon they're being led to another waiting room, smaller and empty.

"Okay," Harry says, when the door behind them has closed. "I know this probably isn't the best time to ask, but. Could you at least tell me _something_?" His voice breaks something inside Nick. He sounds pleading and it's Nick's fault.

"Just, anything, Nick," Harry says. "How? Or why didn't you say anything?"

Nick takes a deep breath and looks Harry in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Harry says. "That's—yeah."

"Like, really sorry," Nick says, laughing a little. Fuck. "I didn't want to hurt you by, like, not telling you."

"Okay," Harry says again. "Hey, let's just—let's sit, okay."

He takes a seat and signals that Nick should join him. Nick sits next to him. The hospital chairs are uncomfortable even in waiting rooms. Why can't they do something about that?

"So," Harry says. "Wanna start from the—well. Start?" He quirks his lips up in a smile, but it doesn't really reach his eyes. Nick _hates_ this.

"Right," Nick says, and stretches his legs out in front of him. They still feel cramped from the plane ride. Or maybe that's just his body shutting down from the stress, who the fuck knows. 

"Uh," Nick says. "Remember that party you had like right before your birthday? I remember we were surprised he showed up for it."

Harry looks confused, and a bit hurt. "Wait, so you...you were together then?"

"No, no," Nick says. "No, not at all. Just, that was when it started, I guess. We got to talking about something, and. It was...I don't know, fun, I guess. Weird, but he's—well, you know." He waves his hand. "Charming, when he wants to be. Really annoying. Funny."

Harry's just staring at him now, eyebrows raised. Nick huffs.

"Anyway, we just talked. Caught up, I guess. He didn't throw any fruit at me. I think it was progress." Harry snorts, but Nick ploughs on. "I ran into him, like, maybe a week later. We were at the same event. We got a bit drunk, he came back to mine. And I thought, hey, maybe I should tell Harry about this."

Harry chews on his lip and angles his body towards Nick, face intent. Nick looks down.

"And then," he says, "the next morning he said, 'This doesn't actually mean anything, right?' And I thought, oh. Probably won't tell Harry, then."

"Nick," Harry says. Nick shakes his head, and folds his arms. He's not sure whether he should be telling Harry all of this, but he owes him an explanation. Also, Harry's his best friend. And Louis was ready to tell people. Is ready. Well, mostly ready, probably.

"Anyway," Nick says, and clears his throat. "He came by the next night. With pizza. Because I'd tweeted that living alone sucked, because no one would bring you food when you were too lazy to get up."

"He didn't," Harry says, but he sounds fond.

"He was really obnoxious about it," Nick says. "And ate most of it himself and fed Pig scraps. And then it just became a thing, I don't know."

"Why didn't you tell me then?" Harry asks softly. "Like, when you figured out it was, like, a thing."

Nick shrugs one shoulder. He doesn't know how to explain it. He's not sure he can pinpoint the _exact_ moment it went from just a hook-up to meaning something, for either of them. Maybe it was the toothbrush left behind, maybe it was Louis stealing his shirts, maybe it was Louis buying his dog presents. It could have been any of those. Or it could have been the very night Louis showed up on his doorstep again, and didn't try to avoid his gaze.

The thing was, Louis never repeated what he'd said before the first time he left. But he said, "You haven't told anyone, right?" He said, "Let's not, for now, okay?" and "I don't _want_ to hide," and "I'm not ashamed of you or anything, I'm just _scared_ , okay." 

He said, "I told my mum I fancy boys, too." 

Nick asked him, "Did you tell her you fancy me?" and Louis looked at him for a long moment and said, "I didn't know if you wanted me to." Which was just Louis in a nutshell, apparently. Nick wanted to kick him when he got like that sometimes, but mostly he just wanted to make him tea and give him the remote control so he could watch all the football he wanted.

Not that Louis didn't usually steal the remote anyway, but it was the thought that counted.

"Nick," Harry says, and Nick shakes his head again.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, and sniffles, wiping at his eyes. "Can we go back to his room? I kind of really want to see him right now. I mean. I flew all the way out here, didn't I?" He tries to make it sound light.

"Nick," Harry says again.

"Just," Nick says. "What if he woke up already? They said he would, right? What if—"

"Nick, it's okay," Harry says. "He's going to be okay. Come on, let's go."

They don't get far before running into Niall. "Where've you been? I've been trying to find you. He's awake, come on."

Nick doesn't break into a run. He almost stumbles over his feet, but that's fine, because Harry easily catches him by the elbow and pulls him along.

~

"He's kind of groggy and confused," Liam says. "They said we shouldn't overwhelm him so I left Zayn in with him, but I think you can go in." He shrugs, looking awkward. "I mean, you came all this way."

"Right," Nick says. His heart's beating fast enough that he feels kind of sick with it. He might need his puff puff.

"Go on," Harry says, and gently pushes at his shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

"Right," Nick says again. He can't make himself move.

Harry sighs, and next thing Nick knows Liam's opening the door and they're all pushing him through it. Nick stumbles into the room, and awkwardly comes to a stop a few feet from the bed. He can hear the door close behind him.

Zayn looks up and catches Nick's eye. "Hey," he says, and his voice sounds warm. "Louis, look who we brought." He inclines his head toward the bed, raising his eyebrows at Nick.

Nick doesn't make the conscious decision to move, but next thing he knows he's standing right next to the bed, looking down at Louis.

Louis is _awake_. Louis's eyes are half-closed and he's still pale and he looks absolutely knackered, even barring the whole being in hospital, bandage around his head thing, and Nick _loves_ him.

He's thought that before. Once or twice. In certain situations. It scares him every time. It terrifies him now, but that's not the _point_. The point is Louis staring at him, looking confused and actually _beautiful_. The point is how scared Nick was of _losing_ him.

"Hey," says Nick, voice choked. "Hey, you."

Louis's face slowly breaks into a grin. "Dreaming," he says, and Nick thinks he's probably going to cry. He's maybe crying right now. He's not exactly in control of his emotions, it's terrible.

"He's a bit out of it," Zayn says. "You're not dreaming, Louis."

Louis blinks several times, then squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in. Nick reaches for the hand Louis has pressed to his chest and covers it with his own.

Louis opens his eyes again, gaze more focused now. "Nick?"

Nick wipes at his eyes. No tears. That's good, that would be so fucking embarrassing. "Hey," he says again. "You dream about me?"

"No," Louis says automatically. "I don't—Nick?"

"Hey," Nick says and squeezes his hand again. He looks like a small confused mouse, bless him. Nick is totally fucking losing it. "You okay?"

Louis blinks up at him. "How are you here?"

"Planes are wonderful inventions," Nick says. "Even though they come with leg cramps and poor little babies crying. Why would you take a baby on a plane? They don't deserve that kind of torture. They need to be protected."

"Stop rambling," Louis commands, his speech slow and contemplating, the way it usually is when he's sleepy. Nick's missed him so _much_. It hasn't even been a month. Three weeks. It's been terrible.

"Sorry," he says. "Sorry, darling." He's not sure what he's apologising for.

"You're here," Louis says again. "I—I didn't, like." He screws up his face. "This is going to sound really fucking stupid so don't laugh, okay."

Nick nods.

"I'm not, like, dead or anything, yeah?"

Nick doesn't laugh. He almost does, from sheer _relief_ , but he knows he'd probably start sobbing instead. "No," he says. "Definitely not dead." He pulls up a chair and sits down, leaning forward, and covers Louis's hand with his again. "Why would you think you're _dead_? Christ."

"Well," Louis says slowly. "I think I got hit in the head with something. And it doesn't hurt. And you're here. And Zayn was here. So. I mean, I told you it was stupid."

"Not that stupid," Nick says. He looks over at where Zayn was sitting before; Nick didn't even hear him leave. Sneaky boybanders. Nick shakes his head. "So you remember what happened?" he asks Louis.

Louis takes a deep breath and lifts his other hand to touch his head. He pokes at his eyebrow, trails his fingers over to where the bandage is, and frowns. He starts pulling at it and Nick quickly catches his hand and tugs it away, sets it down on Louis's side.

"I remember falling," Louis says slowly. "And something smashing." He blinks slowly, too, and Nick wants to tell him to just go to sleep again, but he's also selfish and wants Louis to keep looking at him. "Must have blacked out," Louis finishes.

"Yeah," Nick says. "Something like that."

"How long?" Louis asks. "How long have I been out?" He squints at Nick. "Did you teleport here?" He asks it so earnestly Nick almost laughs.

He smiles and says, "Planes, darling. I told you."

"But the flight is—how long was I out?"

"I'm not sure," Nick admits. "I'm shit at timezones. Have to ask one of the lads."

Louis looks confused for a second and then his eyes go wide. "The lads," he repeats. "You're here. You—Nick, do they—they know?"

"Uh," Nick says. "Yeah, kind of. You could say that."

"Shit," Louis says, and yeah, there it is. Nick looks down.

"Sorry," he says quietly. He feels like he should apologise, which is just shit in itself, isn't it. His boyfriend's in the hospital and he wouldn't even have _known_ if Harry hadn't picked up the phone, he wouldn't even be here right now, all because they were keeping it secret. And now Louis is awake and Nick is—what? Was there even any point to him coming here?

"Nick," Louis says. "Nick, stop it."

Nick sighs. "Stop what?"

"Doing that," Louis says. "You—can you look at me?" Louis sounds young and unsure and Nick immediately lifts his head and meets Louis's gaze.

Louis just looks at him, eyes wide but tired.

"Hey," Nick says softly. "Hey, love."

Louis sucks in a breath. "I missed you," he whispers, and Nick leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, clinging on tight to Louis's hand.

Louis throws his other arm over Nick's shoulder and holds him close, so Nick can't escape. Nick wants to pet his hair and tell him he's not going anywhere, that he came all the way here, _clearly_ he's not going anywhere.

He settles for kissing Louis's cheek and says, "Missed you, too. God, Louis, I was _so_ worried."

"Sorry," Louis says. Louis hardly ever says sorry.

Nick barks out a laugh, half relief half exhaustion. "'S not your fault. God, I was so scared you wouldn't wake up."

"You came all the way out here," Louis says slowly. Nick pulls back a little to get a good look at him. Louis's hand is gripping his arm like he's afraid to let go. "I thought you had plans this weekend. I thought you—how did you even know?"

"I called you," Nick says. "Remember? You said you were going to be waiting."

Louis's face goes all confused again. Nick swallows hard and touches his temple, his cheekbone. He's real. He's here, and awake. He's going to be fine. Nick can stop worrying now. He can. He's not going to, probably, but he can.

"I think I remember," Louis says. "Yeah. Yeah, I told Liam I couldn't hang out with him in his hotel room tonight."

Nick nods. "Last night, now."

"Right," Louis says. "That's confusing."

"Yeah," Nick says. "So, anyway, I called you, and Harry picked up."

Louis raises his eyebrows. "Oh."

"Yeah," Nick says.

"That was probably interesting."

Nick laughs again, and rests his forehead on Louis's chest. "You could say that."

"Okay," Louis says. He buries his hand in Nick's hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. It's what Nick usually does for Louis when he's tired and a bit on edge, Louis pushing into the touch like a cat. It feels good from this side, too. "Okay. So, they know."

"Yeah," Nick says, when Louis doesn't go on. He moves so he's resting his cheek against Louis's chest instead. The position is kind of awkward, his back will probably hurt later. Doesn't matter.

"Are they angry?" Louis asks.

Nick sighs. "They're worried about you," he says. "And hurt, I think, and confused. But mostly worried."

"Good timing, then, I guess," Louis says. He's going for light, but he's clearly tired and still thrown from being in the hospital. Nick can hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"Hey," he says, and lifts his head. Louis's hand falls away. Nick catches it and presses a kiss to the back. 

Louis makes him so _soppy_. He can only hope that Louis is too tired to properly remember later exactly how soft Nick's being over him.

"Hey," he says again. "I'm sure they want to see you. Probably waiting outside the door right now, worried sick."

Louis looks away. "You reckon?"

"Definitely," Nick says. "They're probably going to break down the door soon."

Louis snorts. "Whatever."

Nick squeezes his hand. "I'll go get them, okay." He goes to stand, but Louis catches his hand and holds on tight.

"Come back, okay?" he says. He's looking right at Nick, letting Nick read him completely. Nick leans down and kisses his forehead. Louis smells of hospital. Nick loves him so much.

"Not going to leave," he says.

The lads are not listening at the door, but it's pretty close. They all look awkward enough to make Nick laugh nervously.

"He's okay?" Liam asks. "Zayn says he was confused."

"No, he's good," Nick confirms. "Tired, and, well, on painkillers, but he's okay."

Liam visibly relaxes; Nick seeks out Harry and meets his eyes. Harry's smiling slightly, looking uncertain.

"You should go see him," Nick says. "I know they said you shouldn't overwhelm him, but I don't think he'll mind. He's. Um. Worried. Don't tell him I said that."

"Worried?" Zayn asks.

"About our reaction," says Niall, eyebrows raised. "To you guys."

"Yeah," Nick says. "That."

"I'm just glad he's awake," Liam says. Nick's not sure if that will be enough, but Liam's already moving past him and heading into the room. The rest of the lads follow him, only Harry stopping to look up at Nick.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asks.

Nick gives his shoulder a quick squeeze. "You're too good, Haz." Harry starts to frown and Nick cuts him off before he can protest. "I'm fine," he says. "Exhausted. Still feel kind of terrified. But he woke up and he's fine. So that all probably adds up to me feeling okay?"

"I'm not sure," Harry says slowly, but his lips are quirking up, and he finally steps into the hospital room, Nick following him.

Liam and Zayn are sitting at Louis's feet, Niall's perched on the bed next to him, arm easily wrapped around him. Louis looks tired and a bit nervous, but pleased.

He looks up at Nick and smiles a little, and Nick smiles back and thinks, _I'm so glad you have people who love you_ , and, _fuck_ , I _love you_ , and, _I was so scared, don't ever do that to me again_.

He says, "I see there's no room for me on the bed right now."

Louis frowns and starts to say something, but Nick beats him to it. "Joking, love. I'll just be off for a moment, though, figure out where I'm staying, check if Pig's fine at Emily's. I'll be back soon."

Louis's expression softens. "Okay," he says quietly. He's clearly close to sleep.

"Paul's near the waiting room where we were at earlier, he has the hotel information," says Harry. "I think the press release is going out soon, but I don't think we have to worry about the hotel right now, if people haven't found out about you being here."

"Can we talk business later?" Zayn asks. "Louis's exhausted."

"I'm not," Louis says. "Just hit my head. I'm totally fine."

The lads roll their eyes and Niall squeezes Louis tighter.

Nick stands still for a moment, before he makes a fast decision and strides up to the hospital bed to drop a quick kiss to Louis's forehead.

"See you later," he whispers.

Niall wolf-whistles quietly. The rest of the lads don't say anything. Nick's afraid to look at them. His heart is beating out of his chest, but Louis's looking up at him with soft, tired eyes, so he figures maybe it's okay.

"Later," Louis says, and closes his eyes.

Nick leaves him behind with the boys, who know him in ways no one else does, and realises with a sudden jolt that now they also know about _him_. About them. He's not sure how it makes him feel yet, but he guesses he has time to figure it out.

~

Louis is grumpy on Saturday. He's more alert and he hates being stuck in a bed when he has something else he should be doing.

Nick fondly remembers a weekend they both had off where Louis had a brief cold. He spent the whole time lounging around on Nick's sofa, napping, occasionally demanding cuddles, and hardly complaining at _all_. Nick thought it was a miracle back then, but then he realised that's how Louis is. It's when he's missing work or well enough to really feel bored that the trouble sets in. 

Nick gets it, he just wishes Louis would understand that doing a concert when you have a head injury is a terrible, very bad idea. For one thing, Louis's weak as a kitten. Probably weaker than a kitten, but he does have the claws, so. Then again, dogs have claws too, it's not their fault they can't pull them in, is it?

Nick really needs to rest.

Still, Louis gets dizzy when he tries to get up on his own, and he can't do any physical activity because he has to keep his wound from getting agitated. Nick figures he's probably tired from the tour as well, which can't be helping.

Nick himself got only around six hours of sleep; he woke up confused and alone in his hotel room, and headed back to the hospital after a quick shower. It was a nightmare getting there, the place surrounded by fans, but the band's security at least knew how to navigate stuff like that.

By this point everyone knew Louis had been hurt, of course, but Nick still wasn't sure if anyone knew about him being here. He figures someone will let him know if it becomes an issue. He can worry about it tomorrow or on the flight back.

He knows LA is one of the worst places to keep things under wraps, with TMZ roaming the streets and paying off hospital staff. But he hardly ever gets noticed when he's here and never papped unless he's out with other people, so, he's just not going to think about that right now.

He leans back in his chair and watches Louis fiddle with his phone.

"You did a radio show when you had a concussion," Louis says suddenly.

Nick stares at him. "A _mild_ concussion. I was sitting down. My head wasn't _bleeding_."

Louis fidgets. "It's not bleeding."

It _had_ been bleeding. Just a tiny bit; Nick had got here just as the nurse was changing the bandages, and he never wants to see blood coming from Louis's head again. They wound on his temple is pretty bad, even stitched up. The bruise around it makes it look stark and scary.

Nick sighs. "Louis..."

"I'm not letting anyone down, I have to look after myself, the lads aren't angry at me," Louis says in a rush. "I've heard."

"Well," Nick says. "Well, they're right."

Louis laughs. He sounds tired. Nick wants him to go back to sleep and wake up when tonight's concert is over. Then again Nick has to leave around that time and he wants Louis all to himself before that.

The moment's broken by Niall and Zayn coming in without even knocking. Niall heads straight for the bed, but Zayn stops and looks at Nick, like he didn't expect to find him here. Nick gives him a little wave.

"Hey," Zayn says softly. "Sorry, should we have knocked?"

"Nah, it's fine," says Nick. "We were just." He waves his hand around. "Talking."

"Hey, Grimmy," says Niall, climbing up on the bed. He lies down next to Louis and rests his head on Louis's shoulder. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

Nick could point out that he's sitting right next to the bed, but he doesn't bother. It's strange not being immediately noticed, but with these guys their sights will always be on Louis first.

"It's fine," he says. "You guys sleep well?"

"Fine," says Niall, which Nick figures maybe means _not really_. Nick just nods. He's still exhausted from yesterday's flight, but he can't imagine sleeping properly anywhere right now. Not unless Louis is in bed with him, and fuck, when did he get so _soppy_? Louis Tomlinson has ruined him. It's terrible.

He'd tell Louis that, but he doubts Louis would take it right when he's in a mood like this even if it was just them in the room. He can see the tension in Louis's body, the way one of his feet is jiggling slightly. Before he gets the chance to even lean forward, Zayn sits down on the edge of the bed and lays his hand on it. Louis huffs, but stops twitching.

Nick sits back. Right. He has to remind himself that there are other people who know a lot of Louis's tics as well, and they've been there a lot longer.

It also means that there are a lot of people who love Louis, which Nick thinks is great and so important. Still, it makes him feel weird. Jealous, maybe. About the ease of their relationships with Louis. There are no secrets. Except, of course, Nick. Fuck.

"I'll be back in a bit," he says, and gets up. Louis's eyes find him immediately, and his hand twitches like he's going to reach out, but thinks better of it. Nick's throat hurts. Louis is _allowed_ to reach for him. If he wants to.

"Don't be long," Louis says. "And. Can you ask someone if I can have tea?"

"I doubt it," Nick says, pulling a face.

"Well, you can _ask_ ," Louis says crossly.

Nick sighs. "Fine, okay. Yeah, I'll ask." He avoids Zayn and Niall's eyes and heads towards the door.

~

Nick runs into Liam on his way to get coffee and maybe, possibly, something to eat. He has no idea what time it is. He can't even remember if he changed the timezone on his phone. He should check.

"Hey, is he okay?" Liam asks immediately, and pulls Nick close. Nick imagines it's so they won't be overheard, but Liam's all concerned face and his hand is on Nick's shoulder, and that's probably just the way Liam is.

"His head hurts and he hates that he's missing tonight's show," Nick says. "Otherwise good, though."

Liam makes a sad face. "Yeah, tonight's going to suck. Like, no matter how it goes, you know?"

Nick frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Like," Liam says, and leans even closer. "If it goes bad, he'll feel like he's let us all down. And if it doesn't he'll probably think he's, like, not that important to the band, you know?"

Nick draws in a breath. "Yeah, well, he probably thinks both those things anyway, so." Right after he gets it out he feels bad; he's not sure if he should be talking about Louis so openly. But these boys know Louis and his insecurities best. It's probably okay. Nick has no idea. This is so weird.

Liam looks even sadder, but he merely squeezes Nick's shoulder, and asks, "How are you, you good?"

"Yeah, I'm good, me," Nick says automatically. "All good."

"Right," Liam says. "Yeah, me too. I'm going to to, try to get him out of his head. We have press later in the day, you're going to stay with him then, right?"

"Yeah," Nick says, and doesn't ask, "where would I go?" He flew all the way out here. He just needs a breather before he heads back to Louis.

"Okay, see you, then," says Liam, and claps him on the shoulder before leaving.

Nick gets coffee, which tastes like shit, and tries to avoid anyone from the boys' team. It's so awkward. He has no idea what they think of him being here, he hasn't asked. He thinks Paul definitely knows something, even though he didn't let on when he was filling Nick in on the hotel he'd be staying at. Lou probably knows because of Harry, but she might _not_. Harry can be very discreet and Nick has no idea who they're trusting with this at the moment. The whole thing is giving him a headache.

He's staring at the vending machine standing in a slightly more secluded corner, trying to figure out if he should get something from here or go on a hunt for a sandwich, when Niall joins him.

"Hey," Niall says. "Louis asked me to come find you."

"Really?" Nick asks.

"Well, no," Niall says. "But he was all in a strop and when I asked him if he wanted me to come get you he said, 'Whatever'. So. Here I am."

Nick gives him a wry smile. "He feeling any better?"

"Liam tried to cheer him up," Niall says with a shrug. "I reckon we got through to him about some stuff, but it's such a mess anyway. The only good thing is that it's the last two shows of this leg, so he doesn't have to miss much of the tour. But then again..."

"It's the last two shows," Nick finishes for him.

"Yeah," Niall says, and pulls a face. He looks tired; shadows under his eyes and face pale. Nick wouldn't normally notice, but Niall's always been so energetic when Nick's met him.

"What about you?" Nick asks. "You holding up okay?"

"What?" Niall asks. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

Nick raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, me too."

Niall shrugs. "Just tired," he says. "Like you, probably. Also, like, I was pretty scared, you know. We all were. It was—it was really fucking scary, the accident. And it's going to be a mess to deal with."

"Like, the press and stuff?" Nick asks.

"Yeah, that, but like the venue and management issues and who's responsible and all that." Niall sighs. "Going to be a mess."

"But you don't have to deal with that?" Nick asks. "That's what other people are for, right?"

"Well, sort of," Niall says. "We still have to be aware of it, and, like, we like being in control, so."

"Yeah, I know," Nick says, because he really, really does. It's one of the main things he knows about this band. "But Louis got hurt and you're all kind of freaked out, still. Shouldn't have to deal with that on top of it."

Niall just shrugs. "Maybe," he says. "How do you know we're all freaked out?"

"Pretty obvious," Nick says. They're all way more tense than usual. Understandably so. Then again, maybe they're tense because of _him_. He doesn't want to think about that.

"Yeah," Niall says, "I guess. I mean, we were absolutely terrified at first. I know I was. But then, well, you. And Louis."

So, Niall practically read his mind. Irish magic. Nick hates stereotypes. But that's probably what it is. Either that or Nick's really transparent. He swallows. "Yeah," he says. "Sorry about that."

"Don't have to apologise," Niall says. "I mean, not to me, at least." He shrugs. "It just sucks that he didn't think he could tell us. Makes me wonder if it's, like, something we did."

"It's not," Nick says. "I'm sure it's not that. It's just—it's hard. Scary."

Niall nods, but he doesn't look completely convinced. "Yeah, I guess," he says. "Just wish he—I wish he didn't have to worry about us, I guess. He knows we love him."

"Of course he does," Nick says. "How could he not, you remind him, like, every day. You totally do."

Niall huffs out a laugh, but it's a bit brighter.

"You just," Nick starts, and steps closer to Niall, catching his full attention. "You just gotta keep reminding him that. Still. And you're good at that, so. It'll be fine."

Niall blinks at him. "You really know him pretty well, don't you?"

Before Nick gets a chance to answer Niall's attention turns to Harry, who's walking up to them. Thank god, Nick would have had no idea what to say.

"Harry," Niall calls, and reaches out to grip his shoulders. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Harry says, briefly listing into Niall's side.

"Hey," Nick says, "where've you been?"

Harry gives him a shrug in response, and Nick pulls him into a quick hug. Harry looks exhausted.

"Meeting," Harry says. "It's fine."

"On your own?" Niall asks.

Nick cards his fingers through Harry's hair, gently tugging on them. Harry relaxes and gives Nick a quick squeeze before pulling back.

"Yeah," he says. "It was, like. Um."

"About me," Nick says, suddenly getting it. "The meeting was about me?"

Harry looks down.

"Shit," Nick says. "What did they say?"

"Nothing about Louis," Harry says. "They don't think the fans know you're here yet, but if they do find out then, well, they said we need a story or something. I mean, obviously _they_ don't know you're here for Lou, so it was. Um. A weird meeting."

"Shit," Nick says. "I'm so sorry, Haz."

"Why?" Harry asks, looking up. "Because people are shit and assume things about you when we hang out, and then are shitheads to you?" He sounds fiercer than he has in days.

Nick frowns. "That's not—"

"He's right, mate," Niall says. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. People are shit."

Nick sighs and runs his hands over his face. "Fine," he says. "What did they say, Harry?"

"If anyone asks we should say we had planned this weekend to hang out and spend some time with friends we both have in LA. If people don't ask about it directly then we're not allowed to mention it."

"Not allowed?" Nick asks.

"Well, it's not recommended," Harry says. "No one will probably notice that you were here. So you won't have to lie. I'm sorry."

Nick sighs again. "Totally hypothetical, but what if they _did_ know I was here for Louis? Like. How absolutely shit would that be?"

"I don't know," Harry says slowly. "I mean, do you—do you want them to know?"

"No," Nick says immediately. He doesn't. He wants his friends to know, god, he wants his _parents_ to know. He wants to tell his family. He wants people he loves to know. He wants Louis's friends and family to know, too. He doesn't want a bunch of people who probably only see Louis and Harry and the rest of the band as a task, as something to manage, to know. At the moment he kind of hates the thought.

"No," he repeats. "I really don't. I was just wondering. I mean, it'd make things easier for you."

"And even harder for both of you," Harry says. "Nick, I'm fine. It's fine. The focus right now is on Louis's injury anyway. No one is going to bother me, and it's _fine_. I'm used to it. People can think whatever. We know the truth, yeah?"

Nick kind of wants to cry. He gets that urge sometimes when he's really tired and emotional and ends up thinking about Harry's life, Louis's life, pretty much all of their lives. They deal with it so well, though. They're young, but they're so smart about it, so Nick just pulls Harry close for another quick hug. They've got this.

"Ah, shit," says Niall, checking his phone. He holds the phone up in front of Nick's face.

_Hey, where are u? Thought you were going to get grimmy?_

It's Liam, and Nick takes a deep breath.

"Shit, yeah, okay," he says. He wonders if Louis really is asking for him. "I'm going. Harry, you coming?"

"In a second," Harry says. "I need to discuss tonight's show with Niall."

"Should I send the others out, too?" Nick asks.

"Yeah," Niall says. "That'd be good."

"Right," says Nick. "Okay then." Harry gives him a small smile, and Niall pushes his shoulder.

"Go on," Niall says. "Before he bites Liam's head off. Zayn shouldn't have to see that."

Nick nods. "I'll go and sacrifice myself for the cause then."

Niall laughs, and Harry says, voice warmer, "Go on."

Nick squares his shoulders and rushes off.

~

"Hey," Louis says. "Did you get tea?"

Nick pauses. "Uh." Louis looks expectant. Zayn and Liam both look slightly pitying.

"You forgot," Louis states flatly.

"I," Nick says. Surprisingly he did remember at first when he was looking for a halfway decent cup of coffee, but it totally slipped his mind later. Probably bad to admit that. "Well, yeah," he says, "but I didn't see any nurses around. I mean, we could call one of them in and ask."

Louis sighs. "Whatever."

"I mean, I _guess_ I can go and try to find someone if—"

"No," Louis says quickly. "Don't—don't bother. Whatever."

"Right," Nick says. "Uh, Niall told me he wanted to talk to Liam and Zayn?"

"Oh, okay," Liam says, immediately getting up.

"We'll come by again later," Zayn says, and leans down to press a quick kiss to Louis's cheek. Liam squeezes Louis's hand. It's sweet.

"Better bring me tea when you come back," Louis says crossly.

"Will try, bro," Zayn says, herding Liam out. They both give Nick a look when they pass that Nick chooses to interpret as, _Good luck, mate_.

"You didn't tell me about my hair," Louis says as Nick sits down in his usual spot by the bed.

Nick squirms. "What about your hair?"

"It's horrible," Louis says. "They shaved the side!"

Ah, that. Nick realised that this morning. It's not that noticeable, and easy to miss at the moment, what with the bandage around Louis's head. Nick is a lot more bothered by that than by the hair.

"It's not that bad," Nick says.

"Bullshit," Louis says. "Why didn't you tell me?" He sounds weirdly _angry_.

"I barely noticed it," Nick says, frowning. "Why would I mention it?"

"Oh, yeah, you barely noticed," Louis says sarcastically.

"I did!" Nick says, raising his voice. "I was kind of distracted by the bloody bandage around your head! Which, at some point, was actually bloody!"

"Why are you _yelling_?" Louis asks. "Why are you even here?"

Nick stares at him. Fuck. It feels like someone kicked him in the stomach. What the fuck.

"What?" he asks. Croaks, more like it.

"You heard me," Louis says, but he's looking down, avoiding Nick's eyes.

"Why am I _here_?" Nick asks. "Why did I come here?"

"Yeah, that's what I asked," Louis says, voice climbing again. Nick knows, he _knows_ Louis is just tired and upset and _hurt_ , but god, he doesn't want to fight right now.

"I can't imagine why," he says flatly. "Surely it can't be because I _worried_ or anything like that. God, Louis, I was going out of my head. Harry said you were in a _coma_. I thought you wouldn't wake up."

His voice breaks on the last word, which is really rather embarrassing. He looks down at his hands, clasps them together. Fuck.

"Nick," Louis says, sounding vaguely horrified. "Nick, I'm fine."

"Sorry," Nick says. "I just—"

"Don't," Louis says. "Don't apologise. Fuck, Nick, I didn't mean to. Come on, babe, look at me."

Nick drags his gaze up, meeting Louis's eyes. It's kind of terrifying, how open he's being. It felt so much easier last night, when Louis had just woken up and Nick was still scared enough for him to not think abut anything else.

"I'm sorry," Louis says. "Really. I guess sometimes I just forget."

"What, that we're dating?"

"No," Louis says with a glare. "No, of course not."

"What then?"

"That you—" He hesitates, shrugs. "Never mind."

"What?"

"No, it's stupid."

Nick sighs. "It's not stupid." It probably is. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to hear it. They've both had stupid moments. Actually, he probably _doesn't_ want to hear it, but he should.

"Forget it," Louis says. "You're here. I—I'm glad you're here. Really."

"Very convincing," Nick says.

"Fuck you. I wouldn't lie."

Nick sighs softly. "I know, love. I know you wouldn't."

"So," Louis says. "So I am glad you're here. And I missed you. So there."

"So there," Nick echoes. Louis makes the weirdest things into challenges. Nick maybe understands, a bit.

"Sorry," Louis says again. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"That's okay," Nick says, a tad awkwardly. Louis laughs, but it turns into a small cough. Nick hands him a glass of water, touches his wrist, his hand. "You know, you could probably call one of the nurses in and ask them for tea. It's kind of their job."

Louis shrugs, and gives Nick the glass back. "Don't wanna bother them."

"Sure," Nick says, sceptical.

"They're busy," Louis says. "They don't need to come running, because I want a stupid cup of tea, okay."

"Okay," Nick says, and gets out his phone to text Harry. One of the lads will definitely get tea if Louis asks. Nick wonders how the show will look like tonight, only the four of them. Will be really strange, probably. The fans will probably cry.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks.

"Asking someone to bring tea," Nick says.

"You could do it yourself," Louis says.

Nick looks up. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Louis says quietly. "Just saying."

"Yeah, okay," Nick says. Harry's texted back, _Liam is on it_. Of course he is. Nick really likes Liam, even when he's being awkwardly protective and rude towards Nick.

"So what are the lads talking about without me?"

"Don't know," Nick says, fidgeting. "Tonight's show, I reckon."

Louis's face crumples the slightest bit. Nick absolutely hates it.

"Hey," he says. "The lads were right. You're not letting anyone down."

Louis looks at him like he's stupid. "Are you kidding?" he asks. "Of course I am."

"Uh, no," Nick says. "You almost _died_."

"Don't be dramatic," Louis says. "I feel fine."

"You have a—"

"Head injury, yeah, whatever. I can totally go on."

Nick stares at him sadly. "You can't, love. You know you can't."

Louis's face clouds over. "Fuck off."

"The fans will understand," Nick says. "I mean, I haven't checked Twitter or anything, but I'm sure they're just glad you're _alive_. They won't care you'll miss a show as long as you're okay."

"But the lads—"

"The lads will _definitely_ not care you miss a show as long as you're alive. You know they were absolutely _terrified_ , right?"

Louis somehow manages to look guilty over that. Nick wants to shake him.

"Love, it was an accident," he says. " _None_ of this is your fault."

"I know," Louis snaps. "I know, okay, I fucking _know_ , I just _hate_ that I'm letting everyone down and I can't do anything about it." 

"You're not letting everyone down!" Nick says. "You're not letting me down."

"I am," Louis says softly. "I made things harder for you."

"What?" Nick asks, thoroughly confused now. "What do you mean?"

Louis shrugs. "I asked you not to tell anyone. Now everyone's going to find out and it's probably going to be a mess, and the lads know and, I mean, they're probably okay with it now because I'm sick in bed, but who knows what they're going to say after, and I made you hide things from Harry and your friends and your family, and everything—it's my fault."

"Whoa," Nick says. "Wait, no. No, come on, I agreed, okay?" Like, yeah, Nick never would have hidden this from people without Louis explicitly asking for it, but it's not like this is all on Louis. Louis, who was scared and probably confused, and, the point is, Nick doesn't blame him. Maybe he _should_ , but he can't. He just can't do it. Not right now. "And the lads are okay with it. They've been totally cool with me, they're _protective_ over you."

"They're hurt," Louis says. "I hurt them, because I didn't tell them."

Nick doesn't have any way to argue with that. "They'll get over it," he says instead. "You'll apologise. Explain. Wait, have you apologised already?"

"Of course I have," Louis says. "I did last night, okay."

"And?" Nick asks.

"They said not to worry about it," Louis says. 

"Yeah, that's going to work," Nick says.

Louis laughs at that, sounding tired. Fragile. Nick wants to hug him. He's not sure whether he should, right now, whether he should cross the distance between them.

"It'll get better in time," Nick says. "That's how it works."

"How do you know?" Louis asks. Not petulantly; like he's really _asking_ , like he wants Nick to give him answers. Nick doesn't have them, really.

"I'm clever," he says instead. "I know many things."

"Shut up," Louis says, smiling. His expression goes serious again, though, tentative. "Have you told anyone yet? Anyone besides Harry?"

"No," Nick says. "You? Anyone besides the lads?"

"Not yet," Louis says. "You know I was going to do it this week, right?" Nick knows. Louis told him, texted him about it when it was five in the morning on the west coast. Nick was in a meeting and only saw the text later; wasn't sure if Louis really meant it, and was worried about Louis not sleeping, wishing he could call him back. He remembers it clearly.

"I was," Louis says. "I was going to tell them that I was dating someone and then I was going to somehow set it up so we could tell Harry together. Was going to do it after the last shows, before we went on break. I was so ready to stop lying."

"You're not lying anymore," Nick says gently. "We're not."

"Yeah," Louis says. "Fuck, we're not, are we?" He looks exhausted, suddenly.

"Yeah," Nick says. He's pretty sure they should talk about this some more, but he's also so ready to let it go for now. He hasn't checked Twitter for many reasons; he doesn't want to know if anyone's spotted him. He doesn't want to worry about that right now. He wants to focus on his friends and family first.

"God, my head," Louis says, closing his eyes and screwing up his face.

"Do you need painkillers?" Nick asks, immediately worried. "Seriously, I'm going to call the nurse right now."

"No, no," Louis says. "Hate them, they make me all dizzy. Sleepy."

"You _should_ sleep," Nick says. "You have a head injury."

"If I sleep I end up waking up feeling like shit," Louis grumps. "Just. Can you be quiet for a bit?"

"I can leave," Nick says.

"That's not what I _asked_. I mean. Unless you want to."

"Shut up," Nick says. He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to leave tonight; he's got the latest flight back, but it still feels too soon. He wants more time with Louis. Someone needs to be here for him to pout at.

"You first," Louis says. Nick smiles at that. God, he's knackered. He leans back in the chair, wishing he could just lie down. They should invest in sofas. This hospital is surely fancy enough. He closes his eyes, just for a second.

The next thing he knows, he's slowly blinking his eyes open, almost falling off the chair. He scrambles to sit upright, looking around wildly. Right. Hospital. Louis. He must have fallen asleep. Just for a moment, obviously. Someone's saying something.

"What?" he asks, having to clear his throat awkwardly. Fuck, his mouth tastes horrible.

"Shh," Louis says. "No, mum, go on."

Nick rubs his eyes and blinks again. He can't believe he fell asleep.

"Yeah, Nick just woke up. Yeah."

Nick looks over at that, confused. Louis is talking about him? With his mum?

"Are you—okay. She wants to talk to you." Louis holds out the phone.

Nick stares at it. "What?"

"She wants to talk to you," Louis repeats. He waves the phone. "Take the phone, Nick."

Nick looks past it to Louis. He looks young and sleepy-eyed and determined. Maybe a bit scared. Nick takes the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, darling," Louis's mum says. Nick knows her name, he totally does. He'll remember it in a second. "How are you?"

"Good," Nick says, clearing his throat again. "Sorry, just woke up. I'm good, how are you?"

"As well as I can be, I guess," Louis's mum says. Johannah. Jay. That was her name. Nick totally remembered it.

"Right," Nick says, awkwardly.

"So, I heard you were my Louis's boyfriend."

Nick looks over at Louis. He's staring right at Nick, looking like he's ready to spring forward and grab the phone from Nick. Louis told his _mum_ about him.

"Yeah," Nick says, trying for a light tone. "That's me."

"Well, I'm a bit surprised, of course," Johannah says. "Though I did suspect something like this. But I'm glad he has people who care about him there."

"Yeah, well, he has the rest of the band, here, and the whole team. I don't think—"

"He said you flew out there," Johannah interrupts him. "Even though you had plans for the weekend and you're very busy. That's really lovely of you, Nick. It means a lot to him."

Nick throws Louis another glance. Louis mostly looks like he's ready to wrestle the phone away from Nick, but is valiantly trying to hide it. "Relax," Nick mouths to him. Louis frowns at him. He looks sleepy and adorable. Fuck, Nick's so gone.

"I just wanted to thank you," Johannah says. "For being there and looking after him."

Nick blinks. "Of course," he says automatically. "Yeah."

"Well, it was lovely to speak to you, even though you still sound half-asleep, love." She's so _nice_. Nick wonders if it's weird for her, talking to her famous son's boyfriend who she didn't even know existed while her son is in a hospital bed halfway around the world. Well, it's probably more sad than weird. God, she must worry.

"It was lovely to speak to you, too, Johannah," Nick says.

"Jay, please."

"Jay," Nick says, smiling a little at Louis. Louis looks like he's breathing a bit easier. Just a bit.

"Great," Jay says. "Bye, then. I can't wait to meet you when Louis is back home."

"Yeah, same," Nick says, and hands the phone back to Louis. He feels a bit dazed.

"Mum?" Louis says. "Yeah. I know. Maybe. Yeah, okay, okay." He gives Nick a look Nick can't read. "Yeah, I'll call you later. Text me when you have time, okay. Love you, too."

He hangs up. He's still _looking_ at Nick. "Okay?" Nick asks.

"Yeah," Louis says softly. "Yeah, fine. Sorry, can you—" 

He reaches out; Nick grasps his hand and leans forward to press a soft kiss to Louis's lips. Louis smells overwhelmingly of hospital and exhaustion. Nick doesn't care. He wraps his arms around Louis and feels the slightest bit lighter.

~

Nick has to leave for the airport before the boys are done with the show. He hates the thought of leaving Louis on his own, but it's not like he'll be completely alone, will he. His security guy is there, for a start, and some people from the crew, and the entire hospital staff, but still. Nick won't be there. Surely Louis will miss him terribly. Nick did fly out especially.

Louis himself fell asleep after the call with his mum, and is out for most of the afternoon. Nick isn't sure what to do with himself while Louis's asleep so he checks his phone a lot. Emily has sent him pictures of Pig, which Nick appreciates while guiltily ignoring his other messages. He talks with the lads and the nurses and generally anyone who comes by, rambling about work with the boys and entertaining the nurses with showbiz anecdotes. 

He's careful to try not let on what his relationship to Louis is, but he feels like some of the nurses can probably tell. He only hopes the band's management is handling that, making sure anything from the hospital doesn't leak. It's never a sure thing. 

Nick's still staying away from Twitter. He'll check in when he gets home, when he's less close to snapping and has figured out whether he should tweet anything about the accident. Probably best not to, especially if there are rumours. He doesn't even follow Louis. Neither of them had refollowed each other before hooking up and by then it seemed too revealing. God, they've really made a mess of things.

The boys wake Louis up before they leave for the show, and crowd in close for hugs.

"We're going to be rubbish without you," Niall says, and Louis tells him to shut up, but he doesn't look as upset as he did before. Nick's not sure why they didn't just cancel and postpone the shows, but he doesn't ask, wanting to keep that hollow look from Louis's eyes.

He can't help but bring it up later, when he slips out with Harry and Niall, Zayn and Liam staying behind for hugs and reassurances, probably.

"Just logistics," Harry says. "Wouldn't have worked out. Also, it'll create less panic. The show won't be as good, obviously, but they know we wouldn't be performing unless he was going to be okay. It sucks, but." He shrugs.

"Well, good luck out there," Nick says, touching his shoulder. Harry gives him a tiny smile. Nick feels like there's the slightest bit of tension between them, but he's confident it'll pass in time. He'll make sure to keep apologising and win Harry over again.

Liam and Zayn shuffle out of the room together, arms brushing, faces resigned.

"Okay," Liam says. "Let's go do this."

"Good luck," Nick says, and they both nod at him, in sync.

"Hey," Zayn says quietly. "Look after him."

"I have to leave soon," Nick says regretfully.

"No, we know," Liam says. "Just until then, and, like. This is still pretty new to us, but he obviously cares about you."

"Um," Nick says. "Okay."

"See you when we're back in London," Niall says, and gives him a quick hug.

"Yeah, bye," Nick says; Zayn and Liam clapping him on the shoulder, the three of them heading off together.

"It was good to see you, Nick," Harry says, and steps close for a warm hug. Nick wraps his arms around him and holds on tight.

"Could have been better circumstances," he says, and Harry snorts.

"Yeah, true. I'll come by when I'm in London, yeah?"

"Of course," Nick says. "Pig's missed you."

Harry squeezes Nick tighter. "You sure about that?"

Nick frowns. "Of course. And I missed you, too. You know I do."

"Yeah," Harry says quietly.

"Haz." Nick drops a kiss on his head. "I'm sorry. Really sorry. You know you're one of my best friends. I really messed this up."

"It's fine," Harry says, stepping back. "I get it, I just. It's fine, I'll get over it."

"I'll keep apologising," Nick says.

"You don't have to," Harry says. "Well, maybe a bit. I don't know."

"But we'll definitely keep in touch, right?" Nick asks. "You're okay with me texting and stuff?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry says. "I'm cool with that."

"Cool," Nick says.

"Sick."

Nick giggles. "So are you going to stay here?" he asks.

"Going over to New York, actually," Harry says. "Business stuff."

"Oh, nice," Nick says. "You're keeping busy."

Harry shrugs. "Yeah."

"Well, look after yourself," Nick says. "Come see us back home."

"I will," Harry says. "I'm planning on it soon."

"Good," Nick says. "We'll be waiting."

Harry gives him a fond look. Someone calls his name, then, and he curses, stumbling forward for another quick hug and running off with a light, "Love you."

"Talk to you soon," Nick calls back, voice slightly shaky. Fuck. He has to stare at the door of Louis's hospital room before he can go in.

Nick expects Louis to act like he absolutely, resolutely does not care that Nick is leaving, but instead Louis holds onto Nick's wrist and keeps rambling about nothing at all until Nick's almost late. Nick blames the painkillers. 

Louis's headache flared up again earlier, strong enough to make him actually whimper, and make Nick freak out. Nick might have thought that Louis had internal bleeding or something like that. Niall had to calm him down. It was kind of embarrassing.

"Hey," Nick has to interrupt him eventually. "I'm going to miss my flight."

"Good," Louis says. "Stay."

Nick sighs, and leans in close to kiss Louis's temple. "Can't. Work. Things. Work."

"You can miss work," Louis says petulantly. "I'm missing work."

"Can't," Nick says. "Sorry, love, I have to go."

Louis turns his head away, blinking. Oh god. If Louis cries then Nick's definitely going to cry. He's never seen Louis _actually_ cry. He's never cried in front of Louis. He's not planning to start at this very moment.

Louis doesn't cry, thank god. He just sighs and lets go of Nick's hand.

Nick swallows hard. "Reckon you'll be back in England soon?"

"Don't know," Louis says. "Hope so. Paul said they were going to release me soon. I mean, I'll text you, right?"

"Of course," Nick says. "And call, okay? Let me know how you're doing."

"Yeah," Louis says. "You should go." He's still not looking at Nick. He seems tired, his blinking slow, face drawn. There's a cut high on his cheek, close to his eye. It could have been worse. Nick wants to curl up on the bed and stay with him. It's slightly scary, that.

"I'll see you soon," he says. "And the boys will be back in a few hours. You'll be okay, right?"

"Of course I'll be okay," Louis huffs. "I'm in hospital."

"Please don't remind me."

Louis rolls his eyes at that. Nick wonders if he realises exactly how scared everyone was for him. He might do; he's the one who's hurt. Even though Nick wishes he wasn't that flippant about it, it's up to him how he's handling it.

Nick reaches out to squeeze Louis's hand before standing up. He's cutting it really close now, will probably have to run through the airport. That'll be fun.

"I'll see you," he repeats. "Feel better, okay."

"Okay," Louis says softly. "Bye." He finally looks up at Nick, which is at least something. He opens his mouth, seems to think better of it, and closes it again.

"What?" Nick asks.

"Nothing," Louis says. "Go on, you'll be late."

His eyes are strangely clear. Nick wants to lean down and kiss him, but for some reason he's nervous to. He feels stupid, just standing here. He felt stupid flying out, too. He thought he knew where he stood, even a minute ago, with Louis clinging to his hand, but now he's not so sure. 

Then he remembers that he's dealing with _Louis_ and says fuck it. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Louis's lips. Louis's smiling when Nick pulls back. Good. Nick made the right call then.

Nick's phone buzzes with another alert.

"Go," Louis repeats, small smile still on his face. "Text me when you get home."

"I will," Nick says. He has the overwhelming urge to say, "Love you." He doesn't. He can't get it out right now. Soon.

"Nicholas," Louis says. "Go."

Nick does.

He texts Louis when he's waiting for the plane to take off. He did have to run to make it, and he feels out of breath and kind of shaky. He doesn't expect a response, thinking Louis's asleep, but he gets one right when they're asked to turn off their phones for takeoff.

_Have a safe flight ! Just remembered I have a gift for Pig. I think the night nurse is sad you left. xx_

Nick stares at the two Xs and feels like he can probably survive this ten hour flight on those. Or at least the first two hours.

He lives through the flight and manages to text Louis to let him know he's made it home before falling to bed at five in the afternoon on a Sunday and sleeping through to morning.

~

There's a question about it on Showquizness. Because of course there is.

Nick probably could have headed it off, if he'd got hold of Matt earlier. But then he would have had to have a reason, and he was so focused on just getting through the show without showing how tired he was or letting anything slip, like, "What is up with flights longer than three hours, really? It's the plane, innit, it should be faster than everything else. Why haven't they invented one of those teleporter thingies yet?"

So he might have been a bit distracted.

He is not distracted right now. He is horribly, horribly aware of Finchy, Fifi, Ian, the caller on the line, and every single person listening. It's awful.

The question itself was something along the lines of, "What happened to poor Louis Tomlinson from One Direction on stage?" Nick didn't hear all the options because his brain literally screeched to a halt. It's probably not too teasing, because Louis _was_ hurt, and the papers were full of descriptions of the "horrific accident", but Louis was, of course, "recovering quickly and grateful for all the well-wishes" and all that stuff. Nick saw the the covers in the airport when he got in, absolutely exhausted from flying all night. That was a great time, really.

"He hit his head, right?" the caller asks. "A."

Nick hasn't given his answer yet. Matt gives him a look, but Nick shakes his head. Matt frowns, but Showbot says, "The answer is A."

"Right," Nick says, trying to seize the chance. "Next—"

"Wait," Fiona says, because of _course_ it can't be this easy. "It wasn't during a show, right? Otherwise there'd be video."

Nick feels sick with the thought of anyone having _video_ of Louis getting hurt. He can picture it well enough already, and if you add screaming fans and bright lights then—yeah. Fuck. He swallows hard, his breakfast sitting heavy in his stomach. He's so tired of feeling sick and worried, it doesn't suit him.

"Yeah, they say it was during rehearsal," Ian says. "Or sound check, I guess? Something like that."

"But he's okay?" the caller asks. Nick's forgotten her _name_. Shit. No, okay, he has it on a paper in front of him. He's fine, and soon this section will be over and they can play three songs in a row while Nick goes and hyperventilates and tries to not be sick.

"Oh, yeah," Matt says easily. "He's absolutely fine. Right, Nick?"

Nick gives Matt what is probably a very panicked look. Matt definitely looks confused enough.

"Nick?" he asks.

"How should I know?" Nick asks, which is possibly the worst thing he _could_ say. This is fine. This is going swimmingly. He's going to go throw up after this.

"Well, I mean," Ian says. "The papers said he had to miss the last shows, but he was going to be fine?"

"Of course he is," Nick says, trying to aim for breezy. "Just a bump on the head, right? He's fine, fine, fine, don't you worry, fans. Can't keep Louis Tomlinson down. So, next question, please!"

"Uh, right," Matt says, and has Showbot move on. Nick takes a deep breath and tries to at least pretend to focus.

Fiona corners him after. She literally waits for him outside the toilets, because she is a mad woman.

"Spill," she says, doing her best commanding face. Nick tries to slip past her. "No, Nick, come on," she says, grabbing onto his arm. "Are you okay? What the hell happened back there?"

He frowns at her. "I'm fine. I'm good, me, totally fine. Nothing happened."

Fiona's unimpressed face is even better than her commanding face. She's had time to practice. Nick only has a couple of minutes before he has to rush back into the studio. He hasn't checked his texts or his twitter replies yet. He probably shouldn't check his twitter replies, just in case. It's not like he said anything terrible or even remotely bad, but, well, things always get taken out of context, don't they.

"Nick," Fiona says. "Come on. I tried to reach you this weekend, we were gonna go out, but I couldn't even get in touch, and I saw Emily had Pig. Is everything okay?"

Nick stares at her. She looks worried and confused and Nick is _allowed_ to tell people. Why shouldn't he tell people? Especially Fifi, who can definitely keep a secret. He's going to have to tell her at some point, and she probably won't be as angry with him for hiding it, she'll probably _get_ it. Nick is so tired.

"Hey," Fiona says, and Nick quickly looks around, and pulls her closer when he doesn't spot anyone loitering around.

He takes a deep breath. "I'm going to say this. And then we're going to go back and do the show. And you're only allowed to yell at me after."

"Why would I yell?" Fiona asks.

"Because I'm kind of dating Louis Tomlinson."

Fiona stares at him. "What? No."

"I was in LA this weekend. I flew out, I _flew out_ to LA, I got on a ten hour flight. _Fifi_. Oh my god."

Fiona's rubbing his arm. Fiona's so nice, she is so _lovely_ to Nick, it's unfair. Everyone who calls her mean is full of it. Well, she's mean to people who deserve it, probably, and to Nick, if he deserves it, but god, Nick loves her.

"Nick," Fiona says. "Nick, come on, breathe."

"I'm breathing," Nick says. "We have to get back, I'll miss the link."

"Nuh uh," she says. "Breathing first. You're dating _Louis Tomlinson_?"

"Don't say it so loud!"

"I'm not being loud, you're being loud!"

They're both shouting in whispers and Fiona is still rubbing Nick's arm. Nick is really getting tired of this sad sickly feeling in his stomach. He needs to tell all his friends, and then he needs to _wait_ for them to be okay with it. Fiona is not all his friends; some of them will be disappointed, and Louis isn't even back yet, and Nick is going to _miss his link_.

"Breathe," Fiona says, commanding again. "Also we are so talking about this later, okay, you're not just going to run off after the show. I will _find_ you."

"Can't run off, we have meetings," Nick says. He wants to go home and curl up with Pig and do nothing but sleep. He wants to go out tonight. He wants Louis back in his bed. Oh god.

"I can't believe this," Fiona says. "You went to _LA_?"

"I went to LA," Nick says. "I thought—Fi, I thought he wasn't going to wake up."

"Oh my god," Fiona says, and wraps her arms around him. "But he's okay?"

"He's fine," Nick says. "He's totally fine."

"Are _you_ okay?" She pulls back, giving him a good look. "That's why you look like you haven't slept for a week. Nick, god."

"We have to go," Nick says. "Last song is ending, come on."

"Shit," she says. "You, run. Give me a minute to process this."

"You won't—"

"Of course I won't tell," Fiona says, sounding put out. "Don't be stupid."

Nick winces. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving him off. "Later. _Run_."

Nick runs. He almost stumbles over a chair and hits the wall, but he makes it in time. Small victories.

~

The talk with Fiona after the show goes a lot better and is a lot less dramatic then the hurried conversation outside the Radio 1 toilets. For one, Nick doesn't feel like he can't breathe. He also doesn't cry. _So_ many points for him. She tells him to give Louis her well-wishes. It's kind of weird. Probably nice, in a way, too.

It still leaves him exhausted, ready for a nap after the terrible jetlag from flying to LA and back in the span of a weekend. He's just nodding off on the sofa, Pig curled up next to him, freshly picked up from Emily's, when his phone goes off with a new text. He almost ignores it, but the minute he thinks of that several terrible ideas pop into his head. Anyone could be texting him for a million different reasons and they could all be horrible and potentially related to Louis. He reaches for the phone before he can completely lose it. He _really_ needs to sleep.

_Hey, are you home?_

Louis. Nick almost drops the phone, fumbling to answer.

_Yeah_ , he sends back. _What time is it there?_

_Late. How was the show?_

_Ugh,_ Nick says. _How are you?_

_Can I call you?_

_Of course_

Nick's phone rings a moment later. "Hey," he says, picking up.

"I'm coming back tomorrow," Louis says. "Well, Tuesday. I'll be back on Tuesday, I think."

Nick sucks in a breath. "You are? Wait, are you sure you're okay to travel?"

"I will be," Louis says. "They're discharging me in the morning, I'm good to fly out at night."

Nick's sure that's not entirely true, but also Louis's people would not let him risk his life, so he's probably safe enough, if not entirely _okay_ for travelling.

"Okay," he says. "If you're sure."

There's a pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how's your head?" Nick asks. "The flight's so long. What if something happens?"

"Oh," Louis says. "No, nothing's going to happen. Don't worry."

"And your head?"

"Better," Louis says. "Honestly, Nick, I'm okay."

"Okay," Nick says. "So, are you going home to your mum when you get in?"

"Yeah," Louis says slowly. Nick expected it, but he still _aches_ with the need to see Louis. Check that he's okay for himself. "Yeah, I mean, I'll go by there."

"Good," Nick says. "She's probably really worried."

"Yeah," Louis. "But. I mean, the doctor said I should have someone, like, looking after me. Not all the time, obviously, but I don't really want to burden mum. She has enough kids to take care of. And, I mean, I can probably have someone from the team check in on me, but..."

It takes Nick a second to catch on. "You—wait. Do you want to come here?"

"Well," Louis says. "I mean, I can go to mine."

"That was an invitation," Nick says. "Not like a proper question. I'd really like it if you came here, actually. If you want to."

"Oh," Louis says. "Yeah, if you're okay with it?"

"Lou, you're here all the time anyway," Nick says. "Why wouldn't it be fine?"

"I don't know," Louis says. "It's like four in the morning here, okay."

"Okay," Nick says. "When are you going to be here, then?"

"Maybe Wednesday?" Louis asks.

Nick blinks. That's soon. "You sure you don't want to spend more time with your mum?"

"She's busy," Louis says. "Is that okay for you? If I come Wednesday evening?"

"Yeah," Nick says, then actually thinks about it. "Yeah, I don't have anything Wednesday evening, yeah."

"No plans with friends?" Louis asks casually.

Nick has to concentrate to swallow, suddenly feeling slightly sick. He hasn't even told Emily yet, brushing her off with, "I'm _so_ knackered, I'll explain later, I swear." He thinks she only let him off because he was visibly swaying on his feet. He has to tell her soon.

"No," he says. "No plans. I have meetings after the show and I have TV on Thursday, I think, but yeah, I'll be here Wednesday evening."

"Okay," Louis says. "Okay, good. So. How was the show today?"

"Terrible," Nick says. "Well, probably not terrible. I was _so_ tired, I can't remember half the things I said."

"Sucks," Louis says.

"Yeah, and there was a question about you on Showquizness and I thought, oh my god, this is it. I'm not even sure what I was afraid of, that people will find out? I don't think anyone spotted me in LA, but, you know, still."

"What was the question?" Louis asks.

"Just about what happened to you. The caller sounded worried, I think. I sounded kind of defensive."

"Defensive?"

"I might have said, 'How should I know?' when Finchy asked me if you were okay."

There's a brief pause, a crackle over the line, and then Louis's laughing. "You what?"

"I panicked!" Nick says. "I didn't want to—I didn't know what to say."

"Amazing," Louis says. "The fans will have fun with that."

"Oh fuck, don't tell me," Nick says. "I haven't checked Twitter yet."

"Don't," Louis says seriously. "I mean, it probably won't be that bad, but Nick, don't. Not now."

"Yeah," Nick says, knowing full well it doesn't matter if he'll check it today or tomorrow or a week after that. There'll always be shit there.

"You have to pro—" Louis starts, cut off by a yawn. "Shit."

Nick smiles. "Go to sleep, love."

"All I do is sleep," Louis grumps. "So tired."

"You were awake for most of the time on Saturday," Nick says, concerned.

"Adrenaline, maybe," Louis says.

"Is that how it works?"

"How should I know, Nick?" Louis sighs.

"Is anyone there with you? The last show was yesterday, yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis says, sounding tired and sad. Nick wishes he was already on Nick's sofa, dozing here, safe and snuggled under his favourite blanket. It's possible Nick also needs to get some sleep. "Yeah, they moved me to a different room. Has more chairs. Niall and Zayn are asleep."

"Nice," Nick says. "Let them look after you, yeah?"

"They're asleep," Louis says.

"Well you can wake them up if you need something."

"I already have," Louis says.

Nick smiles, relieved. That's more like the Louis he knows. He hopes it means Louis isn't still feeling guilty about getting hurt, because that's ridiculous. And so awfully like Louis.

"Good," Nick says. "Now get off the phone, I'm falling asleep here."

"Oh, sorry, am I keeping you awake?" There's an amused tone to Louis's voice. It makes Nick's stomach feel warm. "What is it there, like, noon?"

"Hey, I've travelled, like—how far is LA?"

"Too far," Louis says. "I have no fucking clue."

"Well," Nick says, clearing his throat. "I flew to LA and back in one weekend, okay. I have no _idea_ what time it is here."

"It's after twelve," Louis says. "You have a clock."

"Whatever," Nick says. "I'm so tired. Go to sleep, love. We'll talk later."

He hears Louis yawn again before he murmurs, "Good night. See you."

"Night," Nick echoes and ends the call. He's far too lazy to get up and move to the bedroom so he just pushes Pig off and stretches out on the sofa. Pig jumps back up and curls up on his feet, and Nick's asleep the next moment.

~

Tuesday's bad. Nick can't help but feel like Matt is onto something when he says he hates Tuesdays the most.

He's almost late to the show, still feeling the jetlag. Fiona's both careful and exasperated with him; asking him quietly if Louis's okay, but still chastising him for cutting it so close.

Louis texts him right before the show: _Getting home Wednesday instead! Will be at yours Thursday, that okay?_

Nick has TV recording Thursday evening, but it's not like he's going to say no. He sends Louis back a quick yes and lets him know about his schedule, and then pouts a bit, especially when he doesn't get a reply back.

He's glad Louis isn't immediately getting on a plane, but he still wants to see him. Wants him back on English soil already. In the same timezone. In Nick's bed, hopefully. Christ, he misses Louis.

He knows he saw him only a couple of days ago, but that doesn't feel like it counts, really.

Also, somehow he's always missing Louis. It's terrible, really. Nick's gone so soft. He loves people, loves his friends a great amount, but he's never missed anyone quite like he misses Louis. Nick's not sure what to do with that, really.

He somehow gets through the show, tries to give it his all, as always. He's slightly stroppy with Matt, but Matt doesn't take the bait. Nick wonders what Fiona has told him. Not the details, he's sure. He needs to talk to Matt. He needs to talk to Ian. Shit, forget Ian, he needs to talk to _Aimee_. She's in New York at the moment, but that doesn't matter. God, Nick has so many people he needs to tell. People he _wants_ to tell, really. He's just not sure how to start.

He checks the internet for the first time when he finally gets home after a Call or Delete recording and a few meetings.

He was too out of it last night; he fell asleep on the sofa after talking to Louis and only woke around six. He walked Pig, ate, ignored most of his texts, and watched TV in bed, up far later than he should have been.

He goes on Tumblr first—it's usually a bit less full on. There's a rumour on there that he flew somewhere during the weekend—apparently some people spotted him at the airport—but no one knows where or connects it with Louis, so he leaves it.

There's not that much interesting on Twitter, if he stays out of his mentions. He gives a quick look to the One Direction twitters, curious. They've all tweeted reassurances about Louis's health, in their own way.

Louis has just tweeted once, a simple, _I'm okay, thank you so much for your support !!!!!_

Liam's even posted a picture. It's taken from Louis's good side; you can't see the bruise from that angle, and he's pulling a silly face at the camera, but he still looks pale and exhausted and the bandage is still around his head. Seeing it makes Nick's stomach ache.

Louis doesn't text him again until late that night, just a _Good night x_. Nick misses his voice. He thinks about calling, but Harry said Louis was getting discharged Tuesday morning instead of Monday and flying out right after, so he imagines Louis's busy. Or probably in air already. Nick's never really hated timezones as much as during this last month.

He sends Louis a row of emojis back and puts his phone away. It takes a while for him to fall asleep.

~

The Daily Mail already has candids of Louis arriving by the time Showquizness rolls around. Apparently he got in ridiculously early in the morning, but that didn't stop people from finding out about it. It makes sense that he hasn't texted yet, if he got such an early flight. Really. He probably just didn't want to bother Nick before his alarm. Fell asleep on the car home. Yeah. That's totally it.

Nick really hopes Louis _is_ getting some rest right now, though. The pictures themselves aren't exactly high quality shots, but even from far away Louis looks bad. His face is pale and tired, a hat trying to cover the bandage still on his head. At least he's up and walking; not lying in a hospital bed where Nick left him. At least there is that.

He's surrounded by security, and Zayn's close by his side. It makes Nick feel better, seeing Louis looked after.

"Nick?" Matt asks. "Ready for Showquizness?"

Nick blinks and looks up at Matt. "Yeah?"

"You sure?" Ian asks. "You look a bit off."

Nick waves his hand. "Tired. Jetlagged still, maybe. Sorry, let's do it."

"Jetlagged?" Matt asks.

"Tell you later," Nick says, and gives Fiona a quick look. She raises her eyebrows and Nick shrugs. Taylor Swift's last single is nearing the end.

"Strictly off air?" Matt asks.

"Yes," Nick says firmly. "Off air."

Matt's giving him a concerned look.

"Guys, let's do it," Ian says. "Time to play."

Nick gives the pictures one last glance, closes the window and gets on with the show.

~

Nick keeps waiting for a text from Louis, but it doesn't come. Not even a _Flight sucked_ or _Landed!_ or anything.

At least Louis's mum knows about him. They've talked on the phone and all. Surely someone would contact him if something was wrong.

He sends Louis a row of texts while he's cooking lunch.

_Told Ian and Fincham I went to LA._

_They assumed it was for Harry, didn't correct them._

_Should I have?_

_Ps fiona knows. About us, I mean._

_Told me to tell you to feel better soon, I forgot, soz_

_Should my pasta be all foamy?_

Louis doesn't reply. He's probably asleep. The flight probably took a lot out of him. Nick isn't worried. At all.

He walks Pig; a long, proper walk during which he tries to pretend he's pretty much ignoring all his friends. Emily's been busy, at least, but she has a good memory at the worst times—at the worst times for Nick—and Nick knows she's expecting an explanation for impromptu Pig watching. Not that she minds, bless her, but Nick did promise. 

Daisy called him up last night and asked if he wanted to go over for lunch today. Nick said he was busy and tried not to feel like shit. He ended up telling her about flying to LA, using the jetlag that came with that as an excuse, too. It didn't make him feel much better, even that shard of honesty.

It's just, he knows Daisy would be the first one to get him to break. She'd feed him biscuits and look concerned and next thing Nick would be crying on her shoulder. She's sneaky like that. She's too good.

In any case, Nick knows he has to start telling people. He _wants_ to tell people. He's just sort of preoccupied with Louis coming back.

But he knows how his friends are. They talk. Nick's not entirely sure if Matt and Ian believed him about LA and Harry. The timing was too weird to explain away in either direction. (Ha, direction. Fuck.) Besides, Nick might take some quick weekend trips here and there, but around Europe. Also he usually tells the team, on the day he's leaving at _least_.

He needs to start telling people. He just has to figure out how.

Louis finally texts him in the evening, around ten or so.

_Lottie says I look ridiculous_

_I don't look that bad, do I?_

Nick snorts at the selfie Louis sent—just a close-up of him pulling a ridiculous face. So like Louis, god. Not even an apology for not texting all day, for making Nick worry. (Surely he has to know that Nick worried, right?)

_No more ridiculous than usual [monkey emoji]_

_Ugh_ , Louis sends back. Eloquent.

Nick sends him a kiss emoji and a laughing emoji. Louis only sends him back a smiley face. When he's annoyed he refuses to use emojis. It's oddly endearing.

_How are you feeling?_ Nick asks.

_Fine,_ Louis says. _Slept a lot_

_Oh,_ Nick says. _Good_

He wants to add something about expecting Louis to text, at least when he got in this morning, but doesn't in the end. It's maybe a bit too clingy.

_I'm coming to London tomorrow afternoon,_ Louis says. _You'll be home?_

_I have a thing in the evening, but yeah_

_I know,_ Louis says. _You texted me your schedule_

Nick rolls his eyes. _Then why are you asking?_

A couple of minutes pass before Louis texts him back. Nick turns off the TV and takes off his glasses, ready to turn in. Finally, his phone buzzes. It's just the poo emoji. Nick grins.

He sends back a row of aubergines and a turtle.

_Why the turtle?_ Louis asks.

Nick sends him a row of turtles.

_You didn't buy a turtle, right?_

_I could do_

_Don't get a turtle. They're savages_

Nick snorts and sends a row of crying emojis.

_Idiot,_ Louis says. _Go to sleep. See you tomorrow_

Nick suddenly feels ridiculously warm inside, his stomach filling with something. (Gas. It's probably gas. He had curry for his tea.)

_Right_ , he says. _Tomorrow!_

_Good night xxxxxxx_ , says Louis.

Nick almost shoves his face in a pillow. Fuck.

He sends a row of Xs back, accompanied by some heart emojis. Louis doesn't reply again. Nick hopes he's getting some rest, too, even though he's been sleeping for most of the day, it seems.

Right. Tomorrow, then.

~

Nick's in the kitchen, making a quick pasta before he has to leave, when Louis arrives. The show this morning seemed to drag forever; Nick was already restless by eight, and Matt got tired of him and sent him downstairs to get all of them breakfast during Call or Delete. He'd almost missed a link, but it got him out of his head a little. Stopped him from checking his phone obsessively, at least. Helped him get back to just checking it the usual amount, which would probably count as obsessive for other people, but that wasn't really the point.

He's just putting the pasta in when his phone buzzes. _be there in five_ , is all Louis has written. Not a minute later the doorbell goes.

"Fuck," Nick whispers, and drops the spoon. Pig's already barking up a storm when Nick gets to the front door. "Shh," he says, and gently pushes her out of the way. "Hold on there, Pig Dog."

He opens the door, and Louis shuffles in, fast as always, like he's afraid someone will spot him.

Pig's on him immediately, circling around his ankles and tail wagging like she couldn't stop if she wanted to. Louis dumps his bag on the floor and crouches down to pet her.

Nick has a lump in his throat.

He closes the door after Louis and leans against it for a moment, just watching. God. Louis.

"Hey," Louis says, gently patting Pig on the side, scratching her head, all that. "Hey, did you miss me?"

He sounds a bit tired. He's wearing an old hoodie and tracksuit bottoms, and even has a beanie on though it's warm outside.

Pig barks and tries to get close enough to lick his face. Louis laughs softly, and pushes her away, scritching her ears instead.

Nick has to clear his throat. Louis finally looks up at that, looks at Nick. Then he frowns. "What's that sound?"

"Shit," Nick says. He stumbles past Louis and Pig and runs into the kitchen.

He's got everything under control by the time Louis wanders in, Pig hot on his heels. He just forgot to adjust the stove and the pasta over-boiled. It's fine.

Nick stares at it, hands on his hips. Great going, there, really. Nothing says, "I'm glad you're back, and I'm glad you didn't die, and I kind of missed you a lot, and I didn't realise just how gone I am for you, but let's forget those last ones and just focus on the first thing, because feelings are a bit stupid, innit?" like a mess in the kitchen.

It's not like Nick was really planning on saying _any_ of those things, but. Well. He was maybe trying to say the "I'm glad you're back" part. Or maybe he was just trying to say, "I have to run off to work in a few, and things feel a bit weird, so here's some food."

Whatever it was, he doubts this will be able to convey it.

"Hey," Louis says. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Nick says, and looks him over. 

Louis has taken his beanie off—there's no longer a bandage around his head, and the shaved area looks awkward, the stitches stark. The bruise around his wound still looks ugly. His hair's all greasy and matted down, maybe unwashed since the accident. The legs of his trackies are stuffed into his socks. It makes Nick's chest feel a bit too small.

"What's this, then?" Louis asks.

"Lunch," Nick says. "Sort of. Bit burnt now."

Louis's mouth twitches. "Nice welcome back."

Nick laughs, just a bit choked. Christ.

Louis's watching him, seemingly amused, but there's something slightly wary in his eyes. Nick thinks he shares the feeling. The last time he saw Louis he was lying in a hospital bed and Louis's band—and one of Nick's closest friends—had just found out about them.

It feels like forever since Louis's been in Nick's kitchen. Nick knew tour was going to be—different. What he didn't know was how rough it was going to be. How much he was going to miss Louis. He knows it might sound a bit shit, but he honestly didn't expect that.

"Nick," Louis says, softly.

Nick pulls him into a hug, holding him close.

Louis lets out a long breath and melts against him, one arm going around Nick's waist. He fits in right under Nick's chin, as usual. He feels a bit more fragile right now, though. Or maybe that's just Nick projecting.

Nick lifts a hand to touch Louis's hair, but hesitates, worried he'll brush against the wound unknowingly, that he'll hurt Louis. Instead he cups the back of Louis's head.

Louis seems to relax even more at that, leaning heavily against Nick. He mumbles something against Nick's shirt, and Nick loves him _so_ much. It's terrifying. It's fucking scary in so many ways.

Nick rubs Louis's arm with his other hand, and just breathes. He's afraid if he talks right now he'll say something stupid and then never shut up. There's a high chance of that.

Eventually, Louis grumbles softly and pulls away. His expression is gentle, though, eyes soft and tired.

God, Nick needs to get a grip. Louis probably needs someone with a semblance of a grip right now.

"Hey," Nick says, briefly squeezing Louis's shoulder. "How are you? You okay?"

Louis shrugs. "Yeah. 'M good."

"How's the head?"

"Tired," Louis says. "A bit achy."

Nick makes a sympathetic face. "They did okay you for flying, right?"

"Of course they did, god," Louis rolls his eyes.

"Just wondering," Nick says. He wouldn't be surprised if Louis had, like, escaped from hospital or something.

"I'm fine," Louis says. "They signed me off and told me to rest and shit."

"That's it?" Nick asks. "Do you not need to clean the wound? Get the stitches out? What about the concussion?"

Louis blinks at him slowly. "I'm—god, everything's fine, okay. The stitches are coming out next week."

"Right," Nick says. "Okay. You're _sure_ , right? That you're okay?" 

Louis sighs. "God, you're worse than me mum."

"Hey," Nick says. He's not. He's just concerned. He's also curious what Louis's mum thinks about Louis being down here and not back home with her. He'll ask later.

Louis pulls up a chair and sits down heavily. Nick frowns. He really does look tired. Maybe Nick should read up on head injuries.

Then again, maybe not.

Louis would probably be tired from the jetlag alone; Nick knows it takes him a bit more to get used to time differences. It's nothing to worry about.

"So," Louis says, and points at the boiling pot. "You planning on eating that?"

Nick blinks. "Oh shit, yeah." The pasta's gone a bit too soft for his liking, but he'll deal. "Wanted something quick. Have to leave soon."

"TV stuff," Louis says.

"Yeah," Nick says. "Sorry."

"Why?" Louis asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," Nick says, feeling slightly awkward. He waves his hand around. "You're here. And I have to, uh, go."

"I knew that," Louis says. "Don't worry about it."

"Right," Nick says. He pokes at his pasta. "You want any? I made enough for two."

A strange expression flickers over Louis's face before he shakes his head. "Not really hungry."

"I'll save it for later, then," Nick says. "Help yourself, yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis says, and rests his chin on his hands. He looks tired but comfortable. "Can you make me tea?"

"Course," Nick says. "Just let me finish this."

He feels weird. He's not sure why. He's probably just overthinking it. He kept waiting for Louis to come back from tour, and now he's here, and it's all weird. (Nick needs a new brain.) He stays standing and eats his food. Louis is watching him.

"Hey," Nick says, "do you need to, like, go out at some point?"

Louis stares at him blankly.

"It's just, I didn't have time to look for my extra key." Nick remembered only this morning that Louis might need one. Usually Louis was here when Nick was here. If Nick left him asleep in his bed when he left for work, Louis was always still there when Nick got back. And if Louis needed to get anywhere before that, he'd wake up with Nick and moan about being up at god forsaken hours, but he'd always leave with a kiss.

"Oh," Louis says. "No, I'm good right now."

"Okay," Nick says. "Let Pig out the back if she gets grumpy. And keep her company, she gets scared on her own."

"I know," Louis says. "Shockingly, I've been here before."

"Yeah," Nick says, and then just decides to go for it, decides to ask what he's been wondering for a while now. "I was just thinking," he says. "About the doctor saying someone would need to watch after you. Wouldn't your mum be perfect at that? I'm crap at looking after myself, you know that."

Louis smirks. "I know." He shakes his head after, though. "No, you do fine. Anyway, it's not proper looking after. Just keeping an eye out, so I don't slip into a coma and die or something."

Nick chokes on his juice. " _What?_ " Oh god, is dying an option?

"Easy there," Louis says, eyes going wide.

"You could _die_?" Nick croaks out.

"No," Louis says. "No, no, I mean—it's like. Head injury protocol or something."

"God," Nick says. "What the fuck."

"I'm fine," Louis says. "God, I told you, you are worse than me mum."

"I'm not," Nick argues. Maybe he is. Why didn't Louis stay with her?

"Honestly, I'm okay," Louis says. "They just said it'd be best if I wasn't alone right now. Just in case, you know. It's what they tell everyone, I suppose. I just didn't want to bother Mum. She's busy enough. I went by there, she saw that I was fine. I mean, she probably doesn't like it much that I left, but she gets it. The babies are a handful, and I'd be shit at looking after them right now."

He looks a bit sad about it. Nick wants to hug him. He's running late, though, and he still has to finish his pasta, get dressed, and figure out whether to take the car or the tube. He's leaning towards car.

"I mean," Louis says slowly. "I don't _have_ to stay here, I suppose."

Nick freezes for a minute, until he recognises Louis's tone. Hesitant.

"I can get Alberto to stay with me at the house, or maybe have some friends come down."

He's not meeting Nick's eyes. Nick figures—hopes—that he's just testing the waters, seeing as Nick's being all weird now that Louis's here. Nick wants him here. God, he really does.

"Do you want to go?" Nick asks.

Louis shrugs. "I don't want to bother anyone, really."

Louis hardly ever worries about that. It's probably the main sign that he's still not feeling too good.

"Shut up," Nick says, and sets Louis's favourite mug down in front of him. "And make your own tea. I have to run."

Louis's mouth quirks up. "Charmed."

Nick flutters his hand around for a moment, then leans down and presses a kiss to Louis's cheek. There. That's—yeah.

Louis's cheeks are pink when Nick pulls back. He looks pleased.

Nick rushes to leave mostly on time. Louis makes tea and sort of helps Nick decide on a shirt. It's an interesting process, picking out clothes with Louis. Usually he'll just say they're all fine, but sometimes he gets intense about a particular item, and Nick either ends up wearing it all the time, or buries it somewhere deep in his closet so Louis will stop scoffing at it.

Nick makes it out of the flat only twenty minutes later than he figured he should be leaving.

The thing that he can't help wonder about, though, is if maybe Louis _would_ like to go back to his house. He'd get more sleep in the mornings, for one. Besides, Nick's busy—he can cancel on his friends, even though he feels shit about it, but he can't cancel work. Maybe Louis really does need someone who'd be around all the time, no matter what he says.

But Louis has been crashing at Nick's for what feels like months now. They even managed to work up a routine of sorts before he went off to America.

Louis is the one who asked. Technically. Sort of. And Nick wants him there, at his house.

He's going to finish the filming and get home late, London slowly winding down around him, and Louis will be _there_ , waiting. The thought makes Nick feel almost choked, and unexpectedly warm inside. Christ.

The filming runs over, like it always does, and Nick drifts about and chats to everyone he can find, and tries not to check his phone too much. Louis only texts him once, around eight. _Pig found a mouse in the garden. It got away. She was very disappointed. [dog emoji pig emoji mouse emoji]_ Nick grins, and gets back to filming with vigour.

The flat is dark when Nick gets back home around half nine. Louis is usually up late, enough so that Nick has to badger him to come to bed, because he can never sleep when Louis is still puttering around the flat.

It seems he's already turned in for the night, though. Even Pig doesn't come to check up on Nick, probably asleep in the bed with Louis.

Nick looks through the flat before heading for bed himself. He finds a blanket on the sofa along with Louis's tracksuit bottoms, and an empty mug on the coffee table. There's another one in the kitchen, along with the plates Nick left out, but no sign of Louis making any food for himself. Nick frowns and makes sure the doors are locked before sneaking into the bedroom.

Louis is fast asleep, with Pig curled up at the end of the bed like Nick suspected. Nick undresses quickly, and lifts Pig down and sends her out to the hall. She looks betrayed, but she knows she's not usually allowed in the bedroom. Louis is snuffling softly when Nick crawls into bed. He doesn't wake up, but he does move towards Nick in the dark, settling against him. Nick considers watching an episode of The Simpsons to get to sleep faster, but he doesn't want to disturb Louis. Instead he wraps a careful arm around him, and closes his eyes.

~

Louis doesn't wake when Nick's alarm goes off in the morning. Nick showers quickly—they have Idris Elba on the show today, and he is _not_ going in unshowered—and lets Pig out. He makes coffee, and fixes a quick cup of tea for Louis. He leaves it on the bedside table. It'll probably be cold by the time Louis gets up, but it's sort of turned into a tradition over the—well, months, really.

Usually Louis wakes for at least long enough to grumble about Nick making too much noise. Sometimes he clings to Nick, pulling him back in bed for kisses and Nick gets to work twenty minutes after six, Matt ready to kill him. Today he's sprawled out on his stomach, face buried in a pillow, snuffling softly. 

Nick can't help it, he has to bend down and drop a quick kiss to Louis's head, mindful of the wound. Louis makes a quiet snorting noise in response, but doesn't stir. Nick leaves him sleeping.

The day is long. Nick's always more antsy on Fridays—and he feels like he needs to physically get out of the studio an hour early on most days. This Friday seems to drag more than usual.

Louis texts him during the Nixtape, just a quick _Pig doesn't like this song_ when Nick's playing "Bullit". Nick grins and sends a row of trucks and pig nose emojis back. He likes it when Louis is listening.

Louis never says outright that he likes the show. He'll text in stuff like "Wow, strong link !" and "That call or delete wasn't boring at all !" But then he'll randomly say, "Hey, I really liked that song you played yesterday right after Showquizness, what was it?" while they're having tea or, "That interview went well, I thought," when he knows Nick's been stressing.

Nick has a meeting about a gig after the show, and then a photoshoot for a magazine. It runs late because the photographer and one of the make-up artists are stuck in traffic. Nick sits around and texts Louis and refreshes Twitter a lot. He wants to be home already. He barely got to see Louis yesterday, he needs to—something. Touch him. Talk to him. Make sure he's doing okay. He's recovering from a head injury, for god's sake. Why is Nick still at work? What if Louis is at home dying or something?

Louis hasn't texted him back in seventeen minutes, after Nick asked him how his day was going when he stopped complaining about his own. Nick is officially freaking out.

He's about to call, but finally, _finally_ Louis gets back to him.

_Okay [dog emoji pizza emoji tv emoji],_ Louis says.

_Get back to work_

_Lazy sod_

Nick rolls his eyes at the phone. He feels fond. Why does he feel fond? He's been seeing Louis for months now and he's still sometimes taken back how much he really fancies him. It's terrible.

_I'm waiting for them to set up the next shot,_ he sends back.

_Chill_

_Did you just tell me to chill?_ Louis asks as an assistant comes to collect Nick. Nick snorts.

_Chillllll_ Nick sends back, obnoxious, and puts the phone away with a quick "sorry" to the assistant. Overall, it's not a bad shoot, even when it starts raining out of nowhere halfway through.

~

It's still pouring down hard when Nick gets home.

Pig twirls around his legs, panting, happy to see he hasn't left her for good. Nick sighs.

"You've been outside, haven't you?" he asks, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. "Louis let you outside?"

She looks like she doesn't even know what outside is, oh god, is that where it's wet and rainy and horrible? No, she doesn't want to go there. She'll just pee inside. Nick laughs.

"Louis?" he calls. "Pig's been out, right?"

"Yeah," Louis calls back from somewhere in the flat. Nick raises his eyebrows at Pig and shakes his head.

"Later," he says. "We're going out, because you're not peeing in my house again."

Pig honest to god sighs. Nick laughs. He leaves his coat and goes to find Louis. He finds him in the kitchen, fixing himself a cup of tea. The kitchen looks—interesting. There's an empty pizza box on the kitchen table, a milk carton and more boxes on the counter, alongside empty cups and plates.

It _looks_ like Louis has actually tried to clean up. He's not very good at it.

"Did you order pizza?" Nick asks.

"Had Alberto get it."

Nick raises his eyebrows. "You sent your security to go get you pizza?"

Louis shrugs. "Couldn't order in, could I? Can't be answering your door."

_Oh_ , Nick thinks. Right.

"Thanks for not leaving me any keys, by the way," Louis says.

"Shit," Nick says. "I totally forgot. Why didn't you text me? Wait, how did Alberto get in?"

"Found the extra," Louis says. "It was in this drawer," he says, nudging it with his knee.

"Oh," Nick says. Right.

"Hope that's okay," Louis says idly. "Left it on the hall table."

"No, course," Nick says. "I didn't mean to lock you in, sorry about that."

Louis shrugs. "It's fine."

He takes a sip of his tea and winces when it's still too hot. He leaves it for now and picks up a Chelsea bun instead. Nick remembers buying them the other day. It looks like Louis has completely ransacked his kitchen.

He must have checked all the cabinets anyway when he was looking for the key. The key Nick meant to find himself, and give to him. It makes Nick feel odd that Louis just found it for himself.

Oh god. Was he thinking of, like, _presenting_ Louis with the key? Like a, _hey, here's the key to my flat_ type thing?

Louis has never used the extra key before. They've always made do without. Fuck, Nick wants him to have it, though. He's not sure what to do now. Tell Louis he should keep it? It's all gone weird. The moment's passed now anyway.

He'll think about it later. Freak out later, if he's going to freak out. Right now he's more interested in how Louis's doing.

"So," Nick says. "What have you been up to then? How's the head?"

"Head's fine," Louis says. He reaches out for another bun. Nick watches him nibble on it. It's weird, Louis either does everything very loudly or very quietly.

Well, Nick's pretty sure he also does stuff at normal volume, but that's not something you really notice, is it? Nick needs to stop thinking.

He opens the fridge instead. It's empty. There's a juice box, butter, a bit of salad, and a case of beer, but other than that it's empty. Nick can't remember the last time he did a big shop, but he's pretty sure there was more in his fridge yesterday. Nick's starving.

"Is there nothing to eat?" he asks.

"Did they not feed you at the shoot?" Louis asks.

"No," Nick says. "Barely. I'm _starving_." He looks over at the empty boxes. "Did you not leave me any pizza?"

Louis shrugs. "Nah." He holds out the last of the buns. "Here?"

Nick accepts it with a sigh and sits down at the table. Louis gets up to get another cup of tea. Nick watches him move slowly through the kitchen. It feels right to have him here. Comfortable.

He chews on the bun slowly. He wonders if he's going to have to order in or can get by just on snacks till tomorrow. It's late already.

"Did you know," Louis asks, "that you had a ton of Creme Eggs in one of the drawers?"

Nick blinks. "No?"

"They were pretty good," Louis says.

"'S that what you did all day?" Nick asks. He hums a little, and then sings, "I've been eating, I've been eating," to the tune of Beyonce.

Louis gives him a shrewd look.

"What? I know it's an old song, okay. Could still be relevant."

"Story of your life," Louis says, which is _mean_. He seems to get it immediately at least, crossing his arms and mumbling a, "Sorry."

Nick could say, "That goes for both of us," because Louis complains so often about being twenty-three and older than the rest of the lads, but he's not in the mood. Louis's dig still stings a bit, so he takes out his phone and starts humming Drunk In Love again. Whatever.

"I haven't really been hungry before today," Louis says quietly. "Woke up today, _starving_."

"So you found all my hidden snacks and made your security come over to deliver you pizza," Nick says, smiling. Louis looks away.

"Hey," Nick says. He gets up and joins Louis at the counter, and slings a careful arm around his shoulder. "I'm glad you're feeling better, love. You can eat me out of house and home, I won't care."

Louis narrows his eyes at Nick, but his cheeks are faintly pink. It's really noticeable, considering how pale he's been after the accident. Pale and tired. He leans into Nick for a bit, before he pulls away, takes his tea and goes back to the table.

"How was the show?" Louis asks. "I missed the start."

"Good," Nick says. "Good callers today."

Louis nods. "Did you see they released more info about the accident?" he asks. "'Zayn is a hero' has been trending all day."

"Yeah, saw something about that," Nick says. "Matt was annoyed they did it after Showquizness was over."

Louis snorts. "That's terrible."

The article wasn't too detailed, but there was stuff about Louis's injuries and Zayn's heroic actions, and a picture of the fallen lighting rig. Nick thought he was going to be sick looking at it. If it had hit Louis on the head it could have killed him.

It didn't, though. Louis is sitting right there in Nick's kitchen, drinking his tea, and eating all of Nick's food.

"You talked to any of the lads?" Nick asks. He's been texting Harry a bit himself, but it feels a bit awkward. Harry's coming back to London next week, at least. Nick hopes that'll make it better. He starts cleaning up some of the boxes, and puts the plates in the sink. He's ready to go camp out on the sofa, and do nothing for the rest of the evening.

"Yeah," Louis says. "Been in touch."

His voice sounds off. Nick looks over, concerned. Louis is staring down at his tea, face pinched.

Nick awkwardly clears his throat. "Is it—are they being weird? About this, I mean."

"No," Louis says quietly. "I mean, not like I thought they would. Niall's been teasing, even."

"Good," Nick says. "Uh. What is it, then?"

Louis huffs and fiddles with his cup. "Nothing. Just. I hate that I missed the shows."

Nick makes a sympathetic noise. He can't imagine how that must feel. He always feels like shit when he has to call in sick, but it's not really the same.

"I should have been there," Louis says. "I could have done it. I mean, not that the lads needed me, but a lot of people were disappointed."

Nick blinks at him, reeling. "Sorry," he says. "You could have what?"

Louis looks up. "Gone on stage?"

"Are you joking?" Nick asks.

Louis frowns. "It's not like I was that badly off. I wasn't _dying_ or anything. Someone said—"

"Have you been reading Twitter?" Nick asks. "What _are_ you on about?"

"They're right," Louis says. "I could have at least been on stage, it's not like—"

"You smashed your head," Nick says. "Sliced it open. Your brain was swollen."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes it was, that's what a concussion _means_. You could barely get out of the bed, love. It's not your fault."

Louis's expression goes tight. "That's not what I meant."

"It is," Nick says. "And it's not your fault, and if people say you let them down then they can fuck off. You were hurt. Your proper fans understand."

Louis deflates at that. He finishes his tea and gets up to put the cup away. It's hilarious, for some reason. Louis never puts his shit away. Now he's acting all proper. Nick wants to hug him.

"I just," Louis says. "I feel like I could have tried harder. I wasn't that badly hurt. It's like I missed the shows for nothing."

"This," Nick says, trailing a careful finger over Louis's temple, "is not nothing."

Louis looks highly unimpressed. Nick leans in and brushes a kiss against his cheek. He doesn't often get the urge to be so gentle, but there's something about Louis. Nick doesn't think he's fragile, not really, but there's something brittle about him on some days. Right now he looks all soft and sleepy, like even if he tried he couldn't work himself up to a proper strop, and Nick wants to—something. He wants to touch him and pet his hair and, like, make him smile. Fuck. It's awful, really.

"Besides, you told me I should stay off Twitter," Nick says. "That goes both ways, you know."

"Yeah, like you could keep away," Louis says.

"Not the point," Nick says. "Now come on, let's go and see if we can find something on telly."

Louis smiles a little. Nick counts it as a definite victory.

They sprawl out on the sofa together, and find the Kardashians on TV. Louis doesn't usually go for that, but Nick knows he'll watch anything when he's tired and relaxed. Pig jumps up onto the sofa, heading straight for Louis's lap. 

"Nooo, Pig, not on my stomach," says Louis and lifts Pig up. "Behave."

Pig tries to wiggle closer to him and lick his face.

"No," Louis says. "Nick, take your dog."

"Come here, Pig," Nick says, patting his lap. 

Pig ambles over, and prepares to settle down. Nick swoops her up and places her on the floor instead. She gives him a betrayed look.

"Sorry," Nick says. "No sofa for pig dogs."

"She was curled up here with me just yesterday," Louis says. "Does it confuse her, do you think? Rules that make no sense."

"I don't think she cares," Nick says. "Go on, Pig, go play with your toys."

She gives him an unimpressed look, but runs off to find something to chew on. Nick hopes it won't be his shoes. She's mostly gotten over that.

Louis fidgets around a bit and unzips his hoodie. Nick realises he's wearing one of Nick's shirts underneath. The tracksuit bottoms are the same as yesterday's, but the hoodie's different, Nick thinks. He remembers the bag Louis had with him. Louis's never had a _bag_ before. Even when he's stayed here a few days in a row he's just worn the same clothes or stolen Nick's shirts. They're always a bit big on him. Nick loves it. He's kind of obsessed with Louis wearing his clothes.

"Our trainer is going to kill me," says Louis. "I'm going to do nothing but eat and sleep during this break."

"Whatever, you hate that guy anyway," Nick says. "Tell him to fuck off."

"Still," Louis says.

"No. You had a head injury. He can go fuck himself."

Louis snorts and lists against Nick's side. "Strong words. You going to tell him that yourself?"

"Definitely not," Nick says. "That guy is scary!"

Louis laughs, body shaking against Nick's.

Nick remembers how fit Louis was the first time they hooked up, from tour and football. Slowly, though, Louis's belly got softer, and that hasn't changed very much on this leg of the tour. Nick loves it. It makes Louis look comfortable and cared for, and not like a high-strung popstar who doesn't have time to eat or sleep.

He knows Louis doesn't really care much for it, but hey, Nick also gets that. It sucks, but he gets it.

Louis sighs, a pointed, drawn-out sound, and Nick rolls his eyes.

"What?" he asks. He means to sound curt, but probably ends up fond. He needs to get in better control of that. Surely he's had enough practice by now.

"I'm tired," Louis says. "And hungry. And tired."

"We could go to bed."

"No," Louis says. "I'm watching the Kardashians."

Nick rolls his eyes again. He's almost sure what Louis's asking, so he takes hold of his shoulder and tugs until Louis is spread out on the sofa, head resting on Nick's thigh.

Louis grumbles a bit about moving, but his expression is smug. He closes his eyes, but there's still a bit of tension in him.

Nick's hand hovers over him; he was going to card his fingers through Louis's hair, dirty as it is, but he's still wary of the wound, even though it's looking a bit better than yesterday. Instead he places his hand on Louis's stomach, barely pressing in.

Louis freezes for just a second, but then he lets out a breath and it's like his whole body relaxes at once. Nick starts gently rubbing his stomach and turns back to the telly. Kim and Kourtney are talking about something or other; Nick can't focus on it.

He keeps _thinking_. It's terrible. He had plans for this weekend, but he cancelled most of them to be at home with Louis and he can't figure out how he feels about it. 

He loves his friends. He misses his friends. He should tell his friends about Louis. He misses not worrying all the time and misses going out, even though he did that just a couple of weeks ago, and he is so, so pleased with Louis being home. The original plan was for Louis to stay in LA after tour for a week or so to do some writing. Also he just thought of his place as Louis's home. But Louis is the one who brought his toothbrush and keeps leaving his clothes and stealing Nick's, it's clearly not Nick's fault. Also he's maybe put off this freakout for a while.

Louis makes a wounded noise. "You stopped."

Nick looks down; his hand is resting on Louis's stomach. At least he's not digging his fingers in, the way his brain ran away from him.

"Sorry?" Nick says.

Louis pokes his hand. "Keep going. Your stupid chocolate eggs gave me a stomachache. Your fault." He sounds half asleep.

"Oh," Nick says, and goes back to rubbing Louis's stomach.

"Aren't you going to apologise for that?" Louis asks.

"Nah," Nick says. He doesn't think about the beer that's in the fridge that's Louis's and all the tea boxes that have accumulated in his cupboards over months now. He wants to bring it up, but it's either going to sound unbelievably sappy or vaguely accusing, so he doesn't say anything.

It's not like they're living together, not really. It's not like they _should_. It hasn't even been that long. Months. Some months. It should probably be like a year or something, right? Nick has no clue, he's never asked anyone to move in. He's not going to start at this very moment. It's definitely too soon. He's only thinking about it because Louis almost died, and he's pretty sure you don't make decisions based on things like that. Also Louis found his spare key. And Nick maybe wanted to give it to himself, but it wasn't supposed to be a _thing_.

"Nick," Louis whines. "You're not committed."

"Yes, I am," says Nick, and then wants to kick himself before he realises Louis's talking about the fact he's stopped moving his hand again.

"You don't look it," Louis says, and wiggles on the sofa. He opens his eyes, looking like he's forcing them open, and glares up at Nick. The angle makes his face look ridiculous. "Nick."

Nick almost leans down and kisses Louis's forehead. He's not sure how that comes off outside of hospital, though.

Instead, he pushes Louis to sit up, ignoring his grumbling.

"Come on," he says. "Sod the Kardashians. Let's go to bed."

"'M not moving," Louis says crossly, but still lets Nick pull him up and drag him to the bedroom.

Nick strips quickly while Louis doesn't even bother, just climbs to bed in his t-shirt and trackie bottoms and settles down with a huff.

Nick slips in behind him, and draws the blankets over them. Louis's facing away from him, which makes it easy to slide his hand over Louis's waist and rest it on his stomach again. Louis wriggles closer until his back is pressed flush against Nick's chest. Nick knows he's going to overheat any minute and will have to move away, but it feels pretty good right now. Louis covers Nick's hand with his own and holds it tight. Nick falls asleep almost immediately.

~

Louis spends the weekend battling a low-key headache and an upset stomach.

Nick would feel smug that Louis will share that much about how he's feeling with Nick, but mostly it just means Louis complains a lot, so Nick is probably not that special.

The problem is that Louis gets snippy when he's starting to feel better after being poorly. And Nick gets snippy when he's cooped up. He hasn't been out in what feels like _years_. It's probably only a week and a half or something, but it's a hot weekend, the promise of thunder in the air, and Nick wants to _do_ something. He doesn't want to leave Louis behind, though.

Basically, it's a recipe for disaster.

It all comes to head when Louis tells Nick to quit hovering.

Nick frowns. "I'm not hovering."

He's totally hovering. Louis is on the sofa, blanket over his legs, pillow clutched to his stomach, watching Top Gear. He looks tired and a bit pale. Nick is completely, absolutely hovering.

"You are," Louis says, "and it's annoying as fuck."

"Oh, sorry," Nick says. "So sorry for, you know, caring, I suppose."

Louis's face clouds over. "And I suppose I'm sorry for being such a bother that you can't leave me alone for a second."

Nick frowns. What? "You're not—"

"Why can't you just do something else?" Louis asks. "Go hover elsewhere." He waves his hand like he's waving Nick off.

Nick grits his teeth. He knows Louis is feeling sick, but for fuck's sake. "Where should I go then?"

"Just go and meet up with your friends or something."

Nick takes a deep breath. This is ridiculous.

"I thought the point was that I was supposed to stay here and make sure you don't faint or summat."

Louis rolls his eyes. "I was fine yesterday, wasn't I?"

Nick's not sure how he'd define "fine". What he knows is that he couldn't wait to get home the entire day because he was _worried_ and _missed_ Louis, and when he got here Louis was grumpy and tired and had eaten everything in his kitchen.

Nick can tell that Louis hates that all he seems to have the energy for at the moment is eating and sleeping and just sitting around, and on top of it he feels sick and achy, but it was _his_ decision to come here, to Nick.

"So?" Louis asks. "You going or what? You can leave me alone for two seconds. Go find your friends. Tell them all about how you have an annoying popstar on your sofa."

Nick blinks. He's quickly losing track of this conversation.

"Look," he says. "It's not like I didn't have plans with my friends this weekend. But I cancelled them, alright?"

Louis glares. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"That's not my _point_ ," Nick says.

"Do they even know about me?" Louis asks. "That's why you don't want to go with them, isn't it?"

"I didn't go because I wanted to stay here _with you_ ," Nick says, ignoring—that whole thing. "I wanted to take—I wanted to look after you."

"Why?" Louis asks. "You hate not being with your friends. You hate not going out."

"That's not—" Nick starts, but, well. "Well, yeah, of course I bloody miss them, but—"

"Then go with them!" Louis explodes. Nick's eyes go wide. He's not sure why Louis's so angry. "Go, okay, if I'm such a bother—"

"I never said that!" Nick says, bewildered. "You're the one who told me to quit hovering."

"Because you were being annoying!" Louis says. He stands up, then, throwing off the pillow and blanket. He's scowling, and Nick has _no_ idea what's going on. He didn't fucking _do_ anything.

"Oh, I'm annoying?" he asks. "The fuck are you doing right now?"

"I'm telling you you can _go_ if you want," Louis says.

"Why would I go?" Nick asks. "This is _my flat_."

"So, what, I should go then?" Louis asks.

"You're not making any sense," Nick says. "Like, absolutely none. I have no idea what's going on."

"You haven't told your friends," Louis says. "Fiona practically dragged it out of you, didn't she? Why haven't you told anyone else?"

"Because you told me not to!"

Louis takes a step back. His hands have balled into fists. "Fuck you."

"Well, it's fucking true, isn't it?" Nick asks. "And I fucking _get_ it, okay, so just—stop."

"Oh, stop," Louis mocks. "How fucking eloquent."

"Oh my god," Nick says. "I have no idea what we're fighting about. Is it my friends now? I thought it was about me hovering. Because apparently I can't even look after you in my own flat."

"You don't have to _look after me_ ," Louis says. "For god's sake, Nick. Maybe I should have stayed with me mum instead of coming back home!"

Nick hitches in a breath, and stares at Louis.

"What?" Louis asks, defensive.

"Nothing," Nick says. "Uh. You called it home."

Louis's expression shutters and his cheeks go pink.

"I meant London," he says.

"Yeah," Nick says. He clears his throat. "Yeah, 's what I thought."

Louis wraps his arms around himself and stares at the ground. Nick can't look away from him. Fuck.

"I just—" Louis says, and then doesn't finish the sentence. Nick stares at him until he can't stand the silence anymore. He's still angry. Confused and angry and god, if Louis isn't giving him anything to work with right now, then Nick doesn't feel like trying to drag it out of him.

"So," he says. "I'll get out of your hair then, I guess."

Louis doesn't say anything. Nick wants him to say that he doesn't _want_ that, but Nick's not sure if he'd stay even then.

"I'm going to take Pig out," Nick says. "She's been waiting all day."

"Yeah, whatever," Louis says.

Nick rubs at his forehead. Bloody hell. "Come on, Pig." She trots up to him, happy, and Nick thinks that at least someone is glad to be in his company.

He spends more than an hour in the park, letting Pig run loose and say hi to some of the other dogs. The park's pretty full on a Saturday afternoon and he has to keep a close eye on Pig to make sure she's not getting into any trouble. She's friendly but shy.

Besides watching over Pig he doesn't really have anyone to direct his attention to, which is why he likes going to the park with friends. Instead he has time to think. It kind of sucks.

He wants Louis at his place. He wants Louis to _want_ to be there. Louis was there all the time before tour started, and Nick never even questioned it. He came and he went and he grumbled about Nick getting up too early in the morning, and some days Nick was busy and didn't see Louis at all, and sometimes Louis would stay for days, and it seemed so _normal_.

Everything else was confusing—keeping it a secret, trying to figure out what Louis really wanted from Nick, learning when Louis was serious or when he was joking or when he was joking to hide how serious he was, but Louis _being_ there seemed to make sense.

And now everything is messed up again. The problem is that Nick hates thinking about these things. He has friends over all the time. He gets off with people often—not that he's hooked up with anyone while he's been with Louis, but, still. He's bad at drawing lines in relationships. He's bad at dating, too, but he's pretty sure that's what he's been doing with Louis for the past four months.

He doesn't actually want that to change.

Pig comes running up to him, barking. Nick crouches down in front of her. "So. What do you think of Louis being around again, then?"

Pig barks, excited. She's staring at the ball in his hand, waiting for him to throw it. Figures.

"Yes," Nick says. "Okay." He throws the ball and Pig goes bounding after it.

Nick can do this. They've coasted by for this long. He'll just have to work at it a bit, readjust some things. Tell his friends, and his family, and figure out the whole "Louis being around all the time right now" situation and try to ignore the part that says "oh god I really don't want him to go" and "oh god what if he stays _forever_ " at the same fucking time.

He has to carry Pig back, she's so exhausted. He sets her down in the hall and she lazily walks into the living room and lies down on one of her usual spots.

Nick takes a deep breath. He can do this. He's dealt with Louis like this before; they've both snapped at each other. It's just usually he knows _why_.

He chucks off his boots and puts Pig's leash down on the table in the hall. He spots the spare key lying there and stares at it. Right. That. Nick should really do something about that, probably. Another time. Definitely not today.

He shakes his head and goes to find Louis. Louis's not on the sofa in the living room, where Nick left him, nor in the kitchen. Nick frowns. "Louis?"

There's no answer, so Nick walks quietly back to the bedroom. He finds Louis in the en suite, brushing his teeth.

"Hey," Nick says. "You okay?"

Louis shrugs, and mumbles something around the toothbrush.

"What's wrong?" Nick asks.

Louis gives him a shrewd look in the mirror and points to the toothbrush. Nick leans against the doorframe, waiting. Louis spits and rinses and looks up at Nick again, face pale and tired.

"Hey," Nick says. "What's up?"

"Was sick," Louis says. "I'm fine."

Nick walks up to Louis and wraps him arms around him. He's sure Louis will let him. They're not fighting anymore. Or at least not now. Louis leans back into him, closing his eyes. "You sure?" Nick asks.

"Yeah, was just the headache," Louis says. "Made me feel sick. Bit better now."

Nick buries his nose in Louis's hair and breathes him in. "Sorry."

"Why?" Louis asks. "I was being an arse."

"I know," Nick says. "I'm sorry you feel poorly."

Louis snorts. "Oh."

Nick runs his hands over Louis's side and drops a kiss to his temple. "Wanna go to bed? Pig and I'll be quiet."

"No," Louis says. "Come on, the light here is making me ill."

Nick sighs and follows him back to the living room. "You sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes," Louis says. "Honestly, I'm feeling better. Did you have a good walk?" 

He turns to where Pig is lying on the floor and immediately slips into his Pig voice. It's absolutely ridiculous. "Did you, Pig? Did you have a good time?"

Pig pants up at him and rolls on her back, showing off her belly. Nick rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, you love me," Louis coos and crouches down to give her a cuddle.

Nick feels like he's going to be next to throw up. From feelings. Stupid feelings.

It's not that Louis has never been sweet with Pig before, it's just Nick keeps noticing it all over again, and he keeps trying to put things into perspective and the only answer that he's coming up with is that he wants Louis here all the time. Also that he loves him. But Nick knew that already.

Basically, he's completely fucked. Except Louis seems to _like_ being here so it's probably going to be okay. Nick just needs to stop freaking out. And start telling people about, you know, him actually _having_ a boyfriend. He can do that now. He _wants_ to do that. It's just hard to get started.

It's different with others; especially if they're not going to drag it out of him like Fiona did. They'll be disappointed or hurt, and Nick can't _stand_ that. He couldn't stand hiding it either.

Everything's just gotten really messed up. He needs to be a proper adult and fix it.

"She had a great time at the park," he tells Louis. "Had to carry her home, though."

"Yeah, she doesn't like walking, does she?" Louis says.

"No, not really."

"Yeah, you're a lazy sod," Louis says, making a silly face at Pig to go with his silly voice. "Aren't you?"

Nick thinks idly that this would be great blackmail material. Louis Tomlinson, making baby noises at his dog. (Except he doesn't want to share this, really. He wants to keep it. God.)

Pig yawns and Louis makes the most ridiculous endeared sound. Nick has to muffle his laughter.

"I'm sorry I blew up at you," Louis says out of nowhere, voice quiet. "Like, especially about your friends not knowing. Kind of hypocritical, innit? My fault, really."

"Yeah," Nick says. "Alright. Um. What was that about, really? Because it didn't really sound like it was—you know?"

Louis shakes his head. "I don't—can we not talk about it right now? Later?"

Nick sighs. The thing is, he's not the best at confrontation, so a part of him is really glad to push this talk into the future, but he probably shouldn't.

"It's not—I mean, I just got really, like, frustrated, you know?" Louis says, seeming to choose his words carefully. "But I shouldn't have yelled and stuff. I'm sorry."

Nick nods. He can probably leave it for the moment, as long as he makes sure of one thing. "Did you mean it when you said you should have stayed with your mum?"

Louis looks up at that. "Do you want me to—"

"Louis."

"No," Louis says firmly, apparently coming to some sort of decision. "No, I didn't."

"Okay," Nick says. "Good. That's good."

"Yeah?" Louis asks.

"Course," Nick says. "Be a bit shit if you did, you know?"

Louis bites his lip, nodding. "Alright, then. That's settled."

It isn't, really, but Nick thinks maybe he can slowly work the other parts out. He honestly doesn't want to worry about it right now.

"Right," Louis says. "Can you make me tea, then?" He smiles. "Please?"

Nick rolls his eyes. "What if I make it wrong?" he asks, because Louis has complained about that countless times.

"You won't," Louis says. "I have faith in you." He says it very solemnly. Nick can't help but laugh. Louis grins back at him. "Great. Tea. Come on, Pig, time for cuddles on the sofa."

"Hey—" Nick starts, but Louis has already sat down. He pats the sofa in invitation to Pig, and she doesn't waste any time in jumping up there and curling up with her head against his thigh. Louis looks extremely pleased. He looks up for a moment, and catches Nick's eye. Something flickers over his face, but then it's gone, and he just looks tired but content.

Nick stands there for a minute longer. Then he goes to make tea.

~

They watch a rerun of TOWIE together afterwards, Louis's head heavy against Nick's shoulder. He keeps sliding lower, so Nick wraps his arm around Louis's shoulder and settles him so he's resting against Nick's chest instead.

"This is awful," Louis says.

"I know, I can barely breathe," Nick says. Louis is leaning against him heavily, almost crushing his lungs.

Louis pinches his side. "Not that, idiot. This show."

"It's a masterpiece," Nick says. "I've never seen anything better."

"Mm," Louis mutters. "You have terrible taste."

"Is that why I'm dating you?" Nick asks. It's what they're doing, after all. Dating. Nick's sure of it.

"Probably," Louis says. "No, shut up. I'm great."

"Of course, love," Nick says.

Louis pulls back enough to squint up at Nick. "Are you taking the piss?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Nick says.

Louis still looks suspicious. Nick holds his gaze, keeps his face impassive, and finally Louis rolls his eyes and leans his head against Nick's chest again.

"So why then?" Louis asks. Nick can tell he's trying very hard to sound like he doesn't care about the answer.

Nick squeezes his shoulder, and keeps his eyes on the TV. "Who the hell knows? Just like you, I suppose."

Louis hmms. "You're awful, by the way," he says. "Have no idea why I even want to be your boyfriend."

His hands curl against Nick's waist when he says it, fingers clutching at Nick's shirt.

"Yeah," Nick says, and rests his chin on top of Louis's head. "Okay."

It doesn't even take half of TOWIE for Louis to fall asleep. He goes from grumbling about what crap the show is to snoring quietly. Nick manoeuvres them until Louis's lying down, a cushion under his head and his feet in Nick's lap. He turns the volume down on the TV, and reaches for his phone.

He has a ton of messages; he ignores most of them and instead clicks on a group chat with Daisy and Pixie. They've been trying to get him to come out since last week, but Nick's been—well, busy.

The last message is a picture from Daisy, who's in New York right now. Nick chews on his lip. They've both been confused, but cool about him being evasive. He feels horribly guilty about it.

He takes a deep breath, and sends out a _Hiya_. He wants to tell his friends, and he needs to tell them. He figures there's probably no better time to start than now.

_Hey, love,_ Daisy says, only after a minute of waiting. _How are you?_

_Good, all good,_ says Nick.

_Listen_

_There's actually something I need to talk to you about_

_Finally,_ says Pixie, popping up out of nowhere as usual.

_Is this about the guy?_ Daisy asks.

Nick stares at the screen. _What? What guy???_

_That's a yes, right?_ Daisy asks.

Nick's friends know him too bloody well.

_You totally have a thing for someone,_ Pixie says.

_But no one's heard you talk about it_

_So we have our own theories_

_Are they good theories?_ Nick asks.

_No, wait, why do you think there's a guy?_

_The classic signs are there,_ Pixie says. Nick rolls his eyes. There are no "classic signs".

_You're all smitten,_ Daisy says.

_Cheerful and annoying (you know I mean this in the best way, grim)_

_And sighing over love songs on the radio_

_I am not!_ Nick says.

_You are,_ Pixie says. _it's awful_

_You suck_ Nick says.

_You don't know anything_

_[crying face emoji]_

Nick closes the conversation and rubs at his forehead. The worst thing is, if they were right and he just had a thing for someone, an innocent _thing_ , a crush, then this would be so much easier. Instead he has a secret relationship, and the guy in question is lying on his sofa, still tired from touring and coming _this_ close to having his skull crushed.

Nick sighs and stares at his phone. Pixie calls him.

Louis groans at the sound and turns on his side. Nick rests his hand on his ankle and answers the phone.

"So," Pixie says, her voice light. "Spill."

"Uh," Nick says.

"Go on," Pixie says. "Daisy put me in charge. Who's the lad you have a thing for?"

"It's a bit. It's a bit more than that."

"Really?" Pixie asks. "Wait, is it really a secret boyfriend, then?"

"What?" Nick asks. "When did you get to _secret boyfriend_?"

"It's a valid theory," Pixie says. "Well, as valid as any other, I suppose. You're all smitten, and then you stop coming out with us. Either you're spending half your time moping, or half your time with the guy. I'm right, aren't I?"

"You might be right," Nick says grudgingly. "Yes."

"Wait, really?" Pixie asks, her voice rising. "Holy shit, who is it?"

"Shh," Nick says. "Keep it down."

"Why?"

"Because he's asleep on my sofa right now."

"'M not asleep," Louis mumbles. Nick pats his ankle.

"Just, give me a second," Nick says, and mutes the microphone.

He moves Louis's feet from his lap and slowly stands up, trying not to disturb him too much. Louis makes an inquisitive noise and mumbles something. His eyes are closed, brow furrowed. Nick can't stop himself from leaning down and gently touching his fingers to Louis's temple, to the line on his forehead. He palms the back of Louis's head, steering clear of the wound on the side, not daring to even brush his fingertips against it. It's looking better, but Nick's still wary.

Louis hums softly, his face relaxing just a little. Pig jumps up onto the sofa, making herself at home in the spot Nick vacated, and Nick's heart literally feels like it's going to burst. Like, right there. Splat.

He quietly leaves the room instead, heads to the bedroom and closes the door behind him. Right.

"Nick?" Pixie asks. "You there?"

"Yeah," Nick says. "So. Uh, about this—"

"So you're actually dating someone? Like, in secret? How long?"

Nick squeezes his eyes shut. She sounds surprised. Nick knows she's going to be hurt, he _knows_. "I'm really sorry, Pixie."

"Okay," Pixie says slowly. "Who is it, then? Someone we know?"

"Uh." Nick fiddles with his shirt. "Louis Tomlinson."

Pixie doesn't say anything.

"You know, um, from One Direction?"

"No," Pixie says.

"Well, I mean, he's in the band—"

"I know who he is," Pixie cuts him off. "You're taking the piss."

"Not really, no."

"You are. Grim, really?"

"What, do you need picture proof?" Nick winces. He shouldn't be cross; he's the one who's been an arse.

"Louis _Tomlinson_?" Pixie asks. "I thought you didn't even like him. I thought you hardly knew him."

"Well, yeah," Nick says. "But we—it just. I know him now. And like him." Nick really likes him. God.

"How long, then?" Pixie asks. "If you're—are you actually _dating_ Louis Tomlinson?"

"A few months," Nick says.

"What?" Pixie asks. "Wait, holy shit. Hold on. The LA trip. Daisy told me you went to LA last weekend, and he got—he was hurt that weekend, wasn't he? Is that what that was?"

"Yes," Nick says. He feels rotten. "I—Harry said he was, like, in a coma, and I freaked and flew over."

"Wow," Pixie says. "Nick, that's—that's pretty hardcore, for you. Like, I know you get obsessed with people easily, but that's like, next level."

"I know," Nick says. "God, Pixie, I know."

"Why didn't you say anything? Nick, what the fuck?"

Nick squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his forehead. God, this feels awful. "I'm sorry, Pixie."

"I mean, we all figured something was going on, but I thought you weren't talking because you didn't know if it was serious or not. This is definitely serious."

"I didn't know that at first," Nick says.

"Well, obviously," Pixie says. "But you said it's been months. Nick, just—why?"

"I don't know," Nick says. It's hard to get out the words.

"You do," Pixie says. Her voice is slightly gentler. She doesn't sound _very_ upset, mostly bewildered. It still hurts. Because Nick knows she's right to be angry and hurt and he hates hurting his friends. "Go on, Grim. Try to spell it out."

"He didn't want to, at first," Nick says. It sounds too much like he's blaming Louis. Maybe a small part of him is. "Because, like, it was new for him, and he's an international bleeding popstar, and I agreed to not say anything, just at first. And then it just became harder, to start the conversation, I guess? It just—Pixie, I don't—"

"You could have said that you were seeing someone and keeping their name out of it for now, for, like, discretion reasons or whatever."

"You would have pried," Nick says. "All of you would have, it's what you do. That's how we _are_."

"Maybe we wouldn't have," Pixie says. "Or maybe you could have told us and trusted us not to say anything."

Fuck. "I trust you," Nick says immediately. "I trust you, you know I do."

"Really?" Pixie asks. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course," Nick says. Of course he does. It never even entered his mind, the thought he couldn't tell anyone because they'd spill. "I trust you, Pepsi."

He can practically hear Pixie roll her eyes. He holds his breath, waiting for just a moment. She doesn't say anything.

"Pixie, please." He's so not above begging. He's never above begging when it comes to his friends.

"Then why?" she asks. "If it wasn't that."

"I just," he starts, and pauses to take a deep breath. It's like he's running out of air. He might need to get his puff puff. He can't even remember where he's put it, it's been ages since he's used it. "I didn't want to scare him off."

"Nick," Pixie says, softly.

"God, Pixie," Nick says. "I don't think he's even out to most of his friends." He knows the lads said they knew, and Louis never made _that_ part of them a big deal, and Louis's mum seemed okay and all, but there's—there's something that makes Nick suspect it's not all that easy for Louis. "I didn't want to make him, like—I wanted him to stay."

"So why are you telling me now?" Pixie asks.

"Because he's—we're ready," Nick says. "Like, we got to that point. I'm so sorry. I just—after a few months, I didn't even know how I'd bring it up. A part of me even liked that it was a secret. It was just the two of us, you know? Fuck. I'm sorry."

"Shit," Pixie says. "You're, like, prope gone for him, aren't you?"

Nick laughs, only a little choked. "It's awful," he says. "It's so bad."

There's a pause, and then he can hear Pixie sigh over the line. "Alright," she says. "So what's the situation now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said he was at your place?" Pixie asks. "I thought he barely got back to England a few days ago."

"Look at you, on top of celebrity news," Nick says.

He can hear her roll her eyes over the phone. "Sometimes I'll listen to the radio, even. There's this idiot on in the mornings on Radio 1."

"Oi," Nick says. He feels a bit lighter. She's teasing him.

"So he's come by now that he's back in London?" Pixie asks.

"Actually, he's sort of staying here?" Nick says.

"Why?" Pixie asks. "Doesn't he have like a fucking mansion or something?"

"He does!" Nick says. "Oh god, Pixie, he asked me if he could come _here_. He hasn't left my flat in days, it's so weird."

Pixie laughs. "Wow, you're freaking out."

"I don't know what to do," Nick says. "Is he living here? He has a bloody toothbrush. It's like he's moved in already."

"Does he have his own key?" Pixie asks.

"No," Nick says, and doesn't think about the spare key sitting on the hall table.

"Then I'd say that's a no," Pixie says. "Technically, I mean."

"Pixie," Nick says. "I'm really sorry."

"I know," Pixie says, sighing. "I know, okay. I'm still slightly pissed at you."

"I love you," Nick says.

"I love you too, you idiot," Pixie says. "How did you get this guy pretty much moving in only after a couple of months?"

"I have no idea," Nick says. "It's ridiculous, isn't it? I'm losing it. I don't want him to go."

"We're having lunch next week," Pixie says. "Daisy should be back then, and Alexa's coming back soon too, and you're going to tell us _everything_. And we want to meet him, obviously."

Fuck. "Obviously," Nick says. That's going to be fun, he's sure. Nick's friends are—a lot. He loves them a ridiculous amount, but he has no idea how Louis is going to take to them. Louis can get prickly when people tease him, Nick knows.

And, shit, what if Nick's friends don't like Louis? They don't really do it consciously, but they sort of always end up judging anyone someone else is dating.

"Great," Pixie says. "We'll settle the date later. Now tell me, what have you heard about Alexa's new girlfriend?"

Nick loves his friends. No matter what, he really, really loves his friends.

~

Louis is still asleep when Nick heads back into the living room. He crouches in front of the sofa and cups Louis's cheek carefully. "Hey."

Louis wrinkles his nose and tries to curl up more in response. Nick considers poking him, but Louis looks so sleepy and vulnerable, he can't do it. Instead he gently trails his fingers over the side of his face and waits for Louis to wake up. Louis's body relaxes again, and Nick's wondering exactly how long he can stay here and creep on him like that when Louis suddenly opens his eyes.

"Hey," Nick says again. "I'm going to go by Waitrose, make us a proper tea. Do you want me to buy you anything?"

Louis's sleep-soft, his gaze unfocused and open. Nick is very fond of him. His hand is still on Louis's face.

"What?" Louis asks.

"Waitrose," Nick says. "Big shop. Do you want anything?"

"Cereal," Louis says, and yawns, turning his head into Nick's touch. "You're always out of cereal. Your cereal cupboard is horrible."

"Right," Nick says, instead of protesting. "Cereal. Anything else?"

"Don't think so," Louis says. "Can't remember right now." He closes his eyes again.

Nick breathes in deep. "Alright. I won't be long. You're doing okay, right?"

"Sleeping," Louis says. "I'll get up in a minute, it's fine."

"Alright," Nick says. "Text me if you need anything. Let Pig look after you."

Louis smiles at that, but doesn't say anything. Nick thinks he's falling asleep again already. He gets a blanket and drapes it over Louis.

"Tea," Louis mumbles. "Buy me tea."

Nick rolls his eyes. If there's one thing he's not in danger of running out of, it's tea. Louis seems to always bring some along when he comes over. Nick's cupboards are full to bursting with tea.

"Sure," he says, dry. "Always need more tea."

Louis only hums in response. He pulls the blanket higher and snuggles under it. Nick has no idea what to do with a Louis like this. Except stare, probably. And wonder how on earth he ended up here, and what the actual fuck is up with _feelings_ anyway.

He shakes his head instead, tells Pig she's in charge, and leaves to go buy some food. Maybe that twisty, bubbling feeling in his stomach is just hunger.

He spends forever in Waitrose, first trying to figure out what he wants to cook tonight, and then buying anything that looks even vaguely appetising. 

When he gets home he finds Louis and Gillian sat on the sofa, watching TV together.

Nick stops and stares. Gillian and Louis both have a blanket. Pig is curled up between them. "Uh."

"Hey, Grim," Gillian says, looking over. "You okay?"

"Am I—yeah," Nick says. He's trying desperately to make eye contact with Louis, but Louis seems glued to the TV. "I'm good. Uh. You?"

Gillian shrugs. "Yeah, same. I came to check up on you, actually. Louis let me in."

Louis finally looks up at that, and meets Nick's gaze. He seems a bit nervous, but his face is set, jaw clenched tight.

"Oh," Nick says. "That's—yeah, that's good. Sorry, I was out getting food, we're—I'm totally out, there's nothing in the fridge. Are you staying for tea?"

"Sure," Gillian says. She looks between Nick and Louis. "If that's okay."

Nick raises his eyebrows at Louis, who blinks confusedly and then shrugs.

Nick clutches the shopping bag tighter. "Of course it's fine, Gellz. I'll just—put these away."

He escapes to the kitchen, drops the bag on the counter, and waves his hands around for a moment, helplessly. Holy shit.

"You okay there?" Gillian asks, and Nick turns around fast, knocking his hip against the counter.

"Ow," he says, patting his hip. "Shit. Sorry, yeah. You—wait, you came to check up on me?"

Gillian shrugs and walks into the kitchen, leaning against the table, her arms crossed. She seems unsure, but not, like, angry.

"Yeah," she says. "I haven't seen you in a while, and I'd heard from Daisy you were in, so I figured I'd come by."

"Oh," Nick says. "That's—thanks. I'm fine."

Gillian nods. "I can see that."

"I'm sorry?" Nick tries.

"I can sort of see that, too," Gillian says.

Nick groans and covers his face with his hands. "Gellz, honest, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about, like, what was going on. I didn't tell anyone, really, but I know I—I'm really sorry. It's not that I didn't want to and it's not—"

"I know," Gillian interrupts him.

"I just—you what?"

"I know," Gillian says. "I mean, I'm a bit confused, and _very_ curious, but—"

She shrugs and moves over to the counter, and starts taking things out of Nick's grocery bag.

"I talked to Louis a bit. After he realised I probably don't bite. Actually, I'm not sure if he has realised that—"

"You do bite," Nick says, and accepts the milk Gillian hands him and puts it in the fridge.

"Only a _bit_ ," she says, smiling. She must not hate Nick too much if she's smiling. "Anyway, we were waiting for you, and then he suddenly just goes, 'It's not his fault, you know.'"

Nick freezes at that. "Yeah?"

"And I was like, what's not his fault, and he tells he asked you to not tell anyone, and that I shouldn't blame you, and he's sorry if he messed something up between us, and then he asked me if I liked football, so I figured that conversation was mostly over. So, yeah. You know."

Nick huffs out a breath. God, Louis.

Gillian hands him eggs. "Put these away, love."

Nick does as asked. "It's not just his fault, either," he says. "I could have said no."

"Yeah," Gillian says. "That's what I figured."

"God," Nick says. "How did you—what else did he say? What did he say when he saw you?"

"Nothing much," Gillian says. "It was pretty easy to figure out. I mean, suddenly you have an injured popstar on your sofa? I was just like, "Oh, are you the secret boyfriend then?" and he went, "Yep," and then asked me if I wanted to watch telly with him."

"Did everyone think I have a secret boyfriend?" Nick asks, whiny.

"Something like that," Gillian says. "I doubt anyone suspected _this_."

"Fuck," Nick says. "I wanted to tell you myself, Gellz, honest. I'm sorry."

Gillian nods. "Yeah, it's a bit weird," she says. "Like I'm not, like, upset, because we did think you were hooking up with someone in private, but this seems—more serious than that."

"It is," Nick says. "God, yeah, it is."

Gillian stares the counter for a while. Nick almost holds his breath. Then she shakes herself, and says, "Alright, I need to think about this later. I'm _starving_. What are we having for tea?"

Nick lets out a breath. "Boiled bacon and cabbage, I was thinking."

"Perfect," Gillian says. "Fuck it, let's get to it."

Nick nudges her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around his waist for a quick half-hug. Nick clings to her for a moment, feeling both nervous and relieved at the same time, because he's made all his relationships pretty complicated at the moment, but Gellz is _here_ and he and Pixie are okay, and it's all going to be fine.

"Sorry," he says. "Sorry, sorry. I love you. You're the greatest friend, Gellz."

"I love you, too," Gillian says, patting his hand. "Now get off me and help me cook this."

Louis wanders into the kitchen when the meat is boiling to check if food is ready.

"It'll take another twenty minutes," Gillian says. "You can chop the cabbage."

"Uh, maybe not," Nick says.

Louis raises his eyebrows. "Out of the two of us, who is the one who's cut his finger at least twice?"

"When's the last time you chopped _anything_?" Nick shoots back.

Louis opens his mouth to respond, then pauses.

"Ha," Nick says. "See."

"That doesn't matter," Louis says. "You're more accident prone than me."

"Um," Nick says, and raises his hand to his own temple.

Louis rolls his eyes. "That was _once_ ," he says. "Also, not my fault. You get hurt way more than me."

"That's not—"

"I'm pretty sure he's right, Grim," Gillian says.

Nick gasps. "You're taking his side? I'm wounded."

Gillian sends Louis an amused look. Louis presses his lips together, and doesn't say anything, but Nick notices how pleased he looks about it.

"How is the head?" he asks.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Fine."

Nick gives him a pointed look, that he hopes says, "I'm not the one who was sick and complaining earlier."

Louis sighs, but his expression softens. "No, yeah, I'm feeling better."

"When are you getting your stitches out?" Gillian asks.

"Next week," Louis says.

"Your hair's already starting to grow back," Nick says.

"I told him he should shave the whole side," says Gillian. "I reckon it'd look good."

"Is that still on?" Nick asks. "That look?"

Gillian shrugs. "Maybe. Could look like a proper model, though."

Louis smirks, a tad self-deprecating. "Double threat."

"Triple," Nick says. "Acting."

"Nah," Louis says. "Not that good at it."

Nick scoffs. "Course you are. Not like most people on TV can act anyway, you know? You could."

Louis blinks at him for a moment before looking away. Nick can see he's trying not to smile. He catches Gillian's eyes instead; she raises her eyebrows at him. "What?" Nick mouths.

She just grins, teasing. Whatever. So Nick's kind of gone for Louis Tomlinson. It's not like he doesn't already know that.

He figures it's about time his friends find out. They'll take the mickey out of him for it, he knows. He kind of can't wait. He just really wants it all to work out.

"Is the food ready yet?" Louis asks. "I'm going to die in this kitchen. I'll starve to death, Nick, what will the papers say?"

"That you're a diva."

Louis scowls. "That's horribly rude."

"Will you stop complaining if I let you chop the cabbage?"

"Yeah, that will make me feel right special," Louis says, but accepts the knife.

They make the dish. No one dies in the process. Nick feels like everything is slowly slotting into place.

~

On Sunday afternoon, right as Nick is trying to decide whether he wants to eat before or after taking Pig for a walk, Louis shoves a phone in his face and says, "Mum wants to talk to you."

Nick takes the phone automatically. Then he pauses. "Wait, what?" he asks Louis.

"She wants to know I'm doing okay," Louis says. "Do _not_ make her worry."

"Why is she asking _me_?"

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. Nick stands up a little straighter, and puts the phone to his ear.

"Hiya, Jay!"

"Oh hi, love," Jay says. She sounds warm. "How are you?"

"I'm good, yeah," Nick says. "Really good. And you?"

"Oh, same," Jay says. "The youngest are both napping right now, so I thought I'd call Louis."

"Good to have a bit of time to yourself, yeah?" Nick asks, smiling. He can't imagine ever raising seven kids. Louis's mum is amazing. Nick's never met her, but he's sure she's amazing.

"Yes," Jay says, laughing. "Only a bit, though, time to make lunch soon."

"That's what I was thinking!" Nick says. "I couldn't figure out what to go with." He shoots a look at Louis who's still hovering near him, face guarded. "What do you want for lunch?" Nick mouths.

Louis frowns. "What?"

"I said what—never mind. What do you think we should have for lunch, Jay?"

"Well, we're having a roast," Jay says.

"Oh, that sounds _good_ ," Nick says. "Probably a bit much for us, but it's a good idea."

"Do you like cooking?" Jay asks.

"Love it," Nick says. "I make a mean roast."

"Oh, that's good," Jay says. "I've always said Louis should learn to cook more."

"He's good at chopping the ingredients," Nick says, giving Louis another look. Louis's still frowning, so Nick reaches out and touches the crinkle between his eyes. Louis bats his hand away. "Relax," Nick mouths.

Jay laughs again. "He is, as long as it doesn't take too long. He really does want to help out, you know, it's just sometimes he can't seem to focus at all."

"Yeah," Nick says. "I know."

"But that's really nice, then," Jay says. "So he's doing better, I take it? He told me he was, but that's what they always say, isn't it? Mustn't worry old Mum."

Nick smiles. "He's good," he says. "Way less pale than when you last saw him, I'm sure. He's doing really good, I think."

"Oh, that's great," Jay says. "I'm really sorry if I bothered you; I insisted on talking to you. But mums worry, you know."

"No, no, of course you didn't bother me," Nick says. "It's lovely speaking to you, Jay."

"Same to you," Jay says. "Well, have a good day, love, speak to you later."

"You too," Nick says cheerfully. "Bye!"

He can see Louis let out a deep breath, and hands him back the phone.

"Why do you get so worked up when I talk to your mum?" he asks after Louis has hung up.

Louis shrugs and pockets his phone. "Who knows what you're going to say?"

"What would I say?" Nick asks, stung.

"No," Louis says, and sighs. "That's not what I—it's just. She's my mum. I want her to like you."

"I can cook," Nick says. He really wants Jay to like him, too. "I think she loves me already."

"And I want you to like _her_ ," Louis says. Oh.

"I do," Nick says.

"And, like, this whole thing must have been so confusing for her, and she was so worried when I got hurt, and I just, I wish I could have told her right upfront, you know?" Louis folds his arms, and doesn't meet Nick's eyes. "I only told her I like guys, and then a few weeks later suddenly I was telling her about you and we'd been going out for ages, and I. I hate that I didn't tell her earlier. And I really want you to like her."

"I do like her," Nick says, because he has no idea how to approach everything else Louis said. It's very important that Louis gets this part. "Why wouldn't I like her?"

Louis shrugs. He looks slightly lost. Nick touches his shoulder, hoping it'll make Louis uncurl. "You know, I'm sure _my_ parents will like you."

Louis finally looks up at that. "Really?" he asks. Demands, more like it—half-indignant and a lot unsure.

"Yeah," Nick says. "I mean, my dad definitely. He'll get to talk football with you."

"And your mum?"

"My mum likes my friends," Nick says. "And people who are nice to me, generally."

"So definitely not me, then," Louis says.

Nick rolls his eyes. "Well, not with that attitude."

Louis chews on his lip. "Guess I'll have to be on my best behaviour when I do meet them." He seems slightly overwhelmed by the idea, lost in his own head.

God, _Nick_ feels overwhelmed. He wants them to do the whole parent thing and meet each other's families, but they're only just telling people, letting their friends in. God, Nick needs to tell his mum. He wants to; he'll do it later today, maybe. He saw a new email from her in his inbox this morning anyway, he can call before tea, do their usual catch-up, ask her all the goss and then just slip it in or something. It'll be fine.

"Hey," Nick says, and slides a hand on Louis's back. "What do you want for lunch?"

Louis blinks at him. "What?"

"Food," Nick says. "I'm starving."

"I—I don't know," Louis says.

"Me neither," Nick says. "Let's go to the kitchen and see what we can find, eh? It's not like we're going to meet the parents right now or anything. It's just us today."

Louis takes a deep breath, and leans into Nick's touch. "Yeah," he says. "Okay. Thanks. I just. You know."

"Yeah," Nick says, because he's pretty sure he does. There are all these lines they have to figure out, and it's sort of scary for Nick; especially really _thinking_ about it. It's a step by step process.

He touches Louis's hair. He helped Louis wash it the other day, because Louis didn't like the idea of accidentally touching the wound. It was strangely intimate, even though they've showered together before. It made Nick feel all warm and restless.

"Macaroni and cheese," Louis says suddenly.

"What?" Nick asks, thrown.

"I want macaroni and cheese," Louis says. "You asked me what I wanted."

"Oh," Nick says. "Oh, yeah, that sounds _good_."

Louis grins at him, fast and bright, and leans up to press a kiss to Nick's mouth. "Great," he says. "Come on, then, you can make it, I'll supervise this time."

"Hey, now that's not fair at all," Nick says, but lets Louis drag him into the kitchen anyway.

~

There's a fashion event on Tuesday where Nick is presenting an award. He gets ready with Louis perched on the bed, watching him appreciatively. It's terribly distracting.

Louis is still in lounge mode; Nick was lucky to get him to shower the other day and he gets beard burn when they kiss. The way Louis is staring at him is making Nick fumble with the buttons on his shirt.

"Need any help?" Louis asks. He's sitting cross-legged, hands clasped in his lap, a smirk on his face.

"No," Nick says, a bit testy and flustered. He can button his own shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"Obviously," Nick says. "Stop distracting me."

Louis hums, but doesn't say anything.

"This shirt is okay, right?" Nick asks. He likes it, but he also likes people telling him he looks good.

"I like it," Louis says easily. "I like your hair, too."

Nick finally finishes getting the shirt buttoned and looks up, smiling at Louis. "Thanks."

"Do you know what else I liked?" Louis asks, grinning softly. "Last night. When you blew me."

Nick's stomach goes all warm and twisty. "Oh, you did? I couldn't really tell."

Louis had been _very_ vocal about it. Then after he'd curled up and gone to sleep right there, not even glancing at Nick's hard-on. Terribly rude.

Louis chews on his lip. "Actually, I was just thinking I should return the favour."

"Is it really returning the favour if you enjoy it?" Nick asks. "Doesn't seem that selfless, really."

"Fuck off," Louis says, pouting. "Do you want a blowjob or not?"

"What, now?" Nick asks.

"Obviously," Louis says. 

"I'm in a hurry!"

"Are you saying no?" Louis asks, eyes wide. He lifts his thumb to his mouth, looking for the world as if he doesn't even know what he's doing. Nick groans.

"I have to leave in fifteen minutes," Nick says. "I'm not even dressed yet!" He still has to get his trousers on, and decide on a jacket, and check his hair again and— 

Louis rolls his eyes. "Like you'll last fifteen minutes."

"That's not the—"

Louis moves off the bed and goes to his knees in front of Nick. Nick shuts up. For a minute.

Louis doesn't waste any time; he pulls Nick's pants down and wraps his fingers around Nick's cock.

"Would it be weird," he asks, squeezing, "if I said I'd missed your dick?"

"I don't know," Nick says, voice definitely _not_ shaking. "Would it be weird if I said it's missed you?"

Louis snorts, and shakes his head, and then he's full-on laughing, like Nick said something hilarious. (Nick loves him. He's trying not to think about it right now, but he absolutely does.)

"Fifteen minutes," Nick says. "Going to be late."

"You're always late," Louis says. 

"Excuse you, I'm never late for work!"

"You're barely on time," Louis says. He's just idly stroking Nick's dick. "One time you got there five minutes before the show started."

"But I wasn't late," Nick says. "Besides, that was your fault."

"It was not!"

"You tried to physically keep me in the bed," Nick says. "Pretty sure that makes it your fault, love."

Louis pouts. "Maybe. It's not like you didn't enjoy it."

"Oh, I did," Nick says, because, well, he had. "Just didn't enjoy Finchy yelling at me after."

"Can you please not talk about Matt Fincham while I'm trying to blow you?"

"You're not even doing anything yet!" Nick says. "Get a move on, then, if you're so eager."

Louis huffs, but shuffles closer on his knees and presses his nose against Nick's crotch. God, Nick's dick was already perking up at Louis merely suggesting a blowjob, but he's fully hard now from the—well, fondling, and it'd be great if Louis did something about it.

"Lou, come on. Don't tease."

"But I love to tease," Louis says softly, breath warm against Nick's dick.

"I know," Nick says, because _god_ , he does. "But please."

"I suppose while you're asking nicely," Louis says, and takes Nick's dick in his mouth.

Louis is great at blowjobs. He clearly loves doing it, and he's always up for a challenge, wanting to prove himself. Nick was pretty much blown away-ha ha, blown—the first time Louis got his mouth on him. It hasn't really changed much, except becoming more familiar. They know each other better now.

It's why Nick moves his hand to Louis's hair, and grips it tight, pulling at it a little. Louis groans, and changes pace, following Nick's lead.

Nick wonders if he'll ever get tired of this.

Louis pulls off, just when Nick's getting close. He looks up at Nick, eyes dark, lips swollen, and Nick feels his knees go weak. He almost stumbles, but catches himself at the last minute.

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck, Lou, you're—"

"Fuck my face," Louis says, voice raspy. "Like, proper. Nick, please."

"Christ," Nick says. "Yeah, alright. Yeah."

He pulls Louis back in, tightening his grip on Louis's hair, and starts moving his hips with more purpose. Louis's got his hands clasped behind his back, which is so, _so_ fucking hot, it's ridiculous, and he's just taking it.

The way his mouth looks around Nick's cock, the way his eyelids keep fluttering like he's trying to keep his eyes open, but can't help himself—it's all too much. Nick comes suddenly, with a gasp, and Louis splutters for a moment, but swallows it all.

Nick's hands shake, fingers still twisted in Louis's hair. Louis blinks up at him slowly, eyes wide and slightly hazy. He slowly licks his lips.

Nick's, like, super proud of himself for not collapsing right there. Instead he takes the few steps to the bed and sinks down there, gasping. Fuck. Fuck, Louis.

"Lou," he says, holding out a hand. "Come here."

Louis gets to his feet and stumbles over to the bed, climbing up and settling in Nick's lap. He sticks his hand down his trackies without any preamble and leans in for a kiss. Nick keeps his hand on Louis's side and kisses him back while Louis gets himself off. Nick would help, he really would, if he could, like, make his brain focus on anything right now.

Louis gets there fast, pulling away from Nick's mouth and burying his face in Nick's shoulder instead, groaning as he comes in his pants.

Nick pats his back. "Good. That was good."

"I'm not a dog," Louis says, gently nipping at Nick's shoulder.

"Stop biting me then."

Louis pulls back and looks at Nick. His face is flushed, red spots on his cheeks, and his hair's a mess. Nick's so fond of him.

"By the way," Louis says. "Rude of you not to help out. Now you owe me." Nick laughs. "I'm not joking."

Nick pushes him over and kisses him until Louis's panting, clinging to him.

"There," Nick says, pulling back.

Louis blinks up at him hazily. "No," he says, voice low and broken. "That's not—fuck."

"Uhuh," Nick says. "You just tell yourself that."

Louis covers his face with his arm. Nick grins and presses a quick kiss to his throat, and runs a hand over his stomach. Then he remembers that he's absolutely, definitely going to be late.

"Shit," he says, and pushes himself off the bed. "Shit, sorry, I need to get dressed."

He checks his shirt—fine, thank god—and gets his trousers on, and finds his jacket. Louis shuffles into the bathroom while Nick's rushing around, presumably to clean himself up. He comes back and sits down on the bed again as Nick's doing one last check—has he got his fly done? Are there really no come stains anywhere?

"I'm sorry," Louis says suddenly.

Nick blinks. "For the—for the blowjob?"

Louis shakes his head. "I'm sorry I asked you to hide it. Us."

"Louis—"

"No, I know you've said that it's okay, but it wasn't, really. Was it?"

Nick wrinkles his nose. "Not really, I suppose."

"I made a mess of it," Louis says.

"No," Nick says. "Hey. We did. And, like, we're fixing it, yeah? We were both stupid, but we're fixing it. That's what's important."

Louis sighs, and runs his hands over his thighs. It's a nervous habit, Nick's noticed.

"Hey," Nick says. "We are fixing it, right? But like. We don't need to fix this part. This one's working pretty well, isn't it?"

Louis shrugs, and then nods. He looks so small, sitting there on the end of Nick's bed.

"Hey," Nick says. "What is it?"

"I told my mum," Louis says quietly. "I mean, you know that, obviously. Just. She knows. The band knows. Some of the crew know."

Nick doesn't ask if Louis's told his other friends. Louis is avoiding his gaze. Nick knows Louis is close with the friends he had before X Factor.

Instead he goes and sits down next to Louis, nudging Louis with his hip; half comforting him, half so he'll budge over and make more room for Nick.

Louis shuffles over and fiddles with his hair. "I just—I know you've been telling people. So I just wanted you to know that, like, I have, too."

Nick nods slowly. He wraps his arm around Louis's waist. Louis's all tense. "Do you, like, want to talk about it?"

He knows it's different for Louis. Different from just saying, "Hey, so I'm dating this dude, kind of forgot to tell you, soz." Suddenly he feels kind of shitty for not having asked before. They've gone about this all weird.

Louis shrugs. "No. I don't know. You're going to be late."

Nick squeezes him tighter, and Louis finally relaxes and leans into Nick.

"I'm just offering," Nick says. "You can, if you want to."

"Maybe," Louis says. "Another day, maybe. I don't know. I've talked to my mum about it."

"That's great," Nick says. "That's really good, Lou."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Not actually a child," he says. "Don't need the encouragement."

Nick wants to pinch him, he's so impossible sometimes. Instead he puts his other arm around Louis as well and tugs him in for a hug. 

"Just want to make sure you're okay," he says. "Sort of care about you, really."

Louis shivers and presses his face against Nick's neck.

"You're okay, yeah?" Nick asks. "You can tell me if you're not."

Louis winds his arms around Nick, his fists curled against Nick's back. "I'm fine," he says, mostly muffled against Nick's shoulder. "My mum is great, and the lads are great, and I'm fine. It's just weird sometimes, innit? Like, they said they knew before I told them. Isn't that weird?"

"Maybe," Nick allows. "I suppose." He remembers when he first hooked up with Louis he thought Louis was out to his friends. It wasn't until later when Nick realised that wasn't exactly the case. Louis acted like he was okay with it, like he was only worried about people's reactions, but like he was sure of himself. "When did you know?" he asks, rubbing Louis's back. Why has he never asked before?

Louis sighs and pulls back, disentangling himself from Nick. "Year eleven," he says. "'S when I suspected, I suppose. Wasn't sure until X Factor. Got a right crush on Harry. And Liam."

Nick splutters. "What?"

Louis smiles. He's not looking at Nick, but he pokes at Nick's thigh, tapping his fingers against it. "They were just crushes," he says. "Got over them, obviously. Just, that's what made me think, oh, shit, yeah. I like fit blokes."

"Do they know?" Nick asks.

Louis shrugs. "Maybe? I don't know, it was a weird time. It was always separate, me fancying them, and all of us being friends. I just thought they were really fit, basically." He pauses, and looks up suddenly. "Wait, you're not going to tell them about this, right?"

Nick frowns. "No? Why would I do that?" His phone buzzes. Fuck. Fuck, he's going to be _so_ late. Daisy's going to kill him. He was supposed to meet up with her at the event before it started.

"Ugh," Louis says. "Is that your car?"

"Yeah," Nick says, checking the text. They're late themselves anyway, they were supposed to be here at least ten minutes ago. At least Nick's dressed. "God, am I ready? How do I look?"

"Good," Louis says softly.

"Okay," Nick says, getting up. "Shit. Right, I need to go."

Louis bites his lip and nods. "I'm always late for shit," he says. Nick knows. "You should maybe try to be the responsible one in the relationship."

"Ha," Nick says. "Ha, yeah, that's probably not going to work."

Louis smiles. "Could still try."

"Right," Nick says. "Wait. Hey." He leans down and gives Louis a quick kiss. "I'm not going to tell anyone else about which guys you fancy or used to fancy," he says. "Except me, obviously. Oh, and David Beckham. Everyone knows you fancy Becks, right? But, I mean, everyone fancies Becks."

Louis flushes, his face going through a series of emotions, settling on overbearing.

"You're awful," he says. "Why do I put up with you?"

"I'm good in bed?" Nick asks. "No, scrap that, I'm _excellent_ in bed."

Louis bites his lip to hide his smile, face screwing up delightedly. Nick loves him, he does.

"I have to go," Nick says. "Shit, shit, so late. Okay, I'll try not to be too long, but you don't have to wait up or anything, but Pig will probably want to go out when I get back, but I'll try to be quiet—"

"I can walk Pig," Louis says.

Nick pauses. "Really?"

Louis shrugs. "Just down the street, so she can do her business. It's not like you have paps hiding in the fucking bushes or summat."

"But what if a fan sees you?" Nick asks.

"I'll have my hood up," Louis says. "I don't know, whatever, it was just a thought."

"No, no," Nick says. "I—Pig will love that. That'd be great. I just thought—"

"Think less," Louis says, gently shoving at his shoulder. "You're so late, why are you still here?"

"I'm not," Nick says. "I'm not here. I've already gone. Why are you talking to yourself, Tomlinson?"

Louis huffs. "Worse than Harry," he says, and pushes Nick out the door.

~

Nick's not _awfully_ late. He's a little bit late, but it's not a big deal, thankfully. The award he's presenting is in the first half of the show, just so he has enough time to gather himself, but not too long to get properly nervous about it.

He bumps into someone on his way to his table, grabbing the person's shoulders to right himself. Wait a fucking minute.

"Harry?" Nick asks.

Harry beams up at him and throws himself at Nick for a hug. "Nick!"

"When did you get here?" Nick says, hugging him back tight. "You said you'd be here this weekend!"

"I got an early flight," Harry says. "Got here this morning. I'm so glad you're here."

"Yeah, I was presenting," Nick says. "Why didn't you tell me _you_ were going to be here?"

Harry shrugs. "Last minute decision."

"How come?" Nick asks. "Up for an award, are you? Fashion icon, Harry Styles."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Something like that."

Nick's curious, because usually when Harry gets back he takes at least a day to rest, unless it's a pressing event. But Harry looks a bit tired, so Nick doesn't want to push. Not at the moment, anyway.

"Are you at my table?" Harry asks. "Please tell me they put you at my table."

They do turn out to be at the same table, along with Daisy and Kate and others. Daisy got back from New York the previous night, and Nick hasn't had time to talk to her properly yet. He knows Pixie's told her the short version.

Nick tried to summarise it up in texts himself, but he's not sure how well it turned out. There were a lot of emojis.

She's still Daisy, though, as lovely as always, but there's a challenge in her eyes, a "you better tell me everything later". Nick toasts her with a champagne glass. He catches Harry smirking, while the others look confused.

"Hey," Harry whispers when the show itself is nearing an end and everyone's started properly mingling. "How's he doing?"

"Good," Nick whispers back. "He doesn't text you?"

"He does," Harry says. "Sometimes. We have a group chat thing. Just wanted to hear from you."

"He's okay," Nick says. "I think he probably hates being stuck in my flat, but his head's a lot better."

Harry makes a face. Nick thinks it either means he's doubting something or he's confused about his drink.

"You could pop by some day," Nick says. "Since you're in London and all, gracing us with your presence."

Harry smiles. "Yeah, maybe."

"I'm serious," Nick says. "I miss you, you know."

Harry looks at him then, his smile softer. "Yeah. Me too, Nick."

"Come by, then," Nick says. "It's settled."

"Yeah," Harry says again. He nudges his knee against Nick's, still smiling, and turns to talk to Kate.

There are a few drinks, and a DJ—Nick briefly feels sad over the fact that he's not the one up in the booth, but at the same time it gives him more freedom to just let go. He dances in a group with Daisy and Harry, and other people who veer in and out of the circle.

Nick loses track of time, and he loses track of Daisy and Harry when he goes to the toilet. He shrugs and goes to find someone else to talk to. The next time he looks at his phone it's after eleven, and he has two texts from Louis.

_Pig loves going outside with me I am the superior dog walker_

_Did you hide the crisps I can't find them_

Nick grins at his phone, and goes to find a taxi.

~

Nick stumbles into the hall, only a tad tipsier than he'd planned on when he left, and then freezes. There are people in his flat. Like, people besides Louis. The lights in the living room are on and there are the sounds of people talking, and laughing, and stuff. Nick blinks. Confusing.

Pig runs up to him, as usual, and Nick crouches down to pet her. "Hey, darling," he says. "Who's here, then?"

She doesn't reply. Sometimes Nick really wishes she could talk. Sometimes he's _really_ glad she can't.

"Right," Nick says, and stands up. He shrugs out of his coat, kicks off his boots, and strolls out into the living room.

Louis, Daisy, Harry, and Niall Horan are sprawled over one of his sofas and—in Niall's case—the floor. They're watching Jools Holland.

"Uh," Nick says.

"Nick!" Daisy says, beaming. "You finally made it."

Nick looks from her to Harry and then back. "You left me behind?"

"We lost you," Harry says. He's in the middle of the sofa, leaning heavily against Daisy. Louis is on his other side, feet tucked under him, watching Nick with a curious expression.

Nick looks down at Niall instead. "What are _you_ doing here?" He tries not to make it sound rude, he's just honestly baffled.

"Came to visit Louis," Niall says, grinning up at him. "Nice place."

"Thanks," Nick says automatically. "Okay. No, hold on a minute, _you_ didn't lose me." He points at Harry. "I looked around and you'd disappeared."

"No," Harry says, frowning. " _You_ disappeared."

"I went to the toilets!" Nick says. "I told you!"

Harry shrugs. "You were gone," he says slowly. "And me and Daisy went and danced with Alexa—"

"Alexa was there?"

"And then there were some drinks, and then we found Alexa, and we lost her, too, and Daisy said we should come wait here for you."

"Oh," Nick says. "Wait for what?"

"Not sure," Harry says. He's seriously drooping, and Nick remembers that he only got in from New York this morning. 

"Right," Nick says, and swoops his eyes over all of them, settling on Louis. Louis raises his eyebrows. "Right, does anyone need anything then? Drinks, snacks? Because if you are—the kitchen's that way. I'm knackered."

Louis smiles at that, and Niall laughs, and Nick catches Daisy rolling her eyes.

"Ugh," Nick says. "I have _work_ tomorrow."

"That sucks, mate," Niall says. No one offers to leave. Nick's not sure if he actually wants them to leave. Maybe he wants another drink instead.

First he wants to sit down, though.

"Move," he tells Harry. 

He blinks up at him, smiling slowly. "Why?"

"Because you're in my spot," Nick says, and waves his arm. Harry keeps grinning, but Daisy gets up and pulls him over to the armchair with her. Nick settles down onto the sofa and rests his head against Louis's shoulder.

He can feel Louis tense up, but when Nick whines and rubs his head against Louis, like Pig would do, he huffs out a laugh and relaxes. "Are you a cat?" he asks, moving a little to get them in a better position, and slips his hand into Nick's hair.

"I'm Pig," Nick says. "Obviously."

He's got the slightest headache and Louis's fingers feel good.

"Oh, obviously," Louis mocks softly.

"There were drinks," Nick says. "And dancing."

"Who'd you dance with?" Louis asks.

"Them lot," Nick says, pointing. "Before they _abandoned_ me."

"Where did you end up, then?" Daisy asks.

Nick thinks about it for a minute. "At one point I was definitely telling Noel Gallagher about that time Pig threw up on my shoes and I almost put them on. I think that was a highlight of the evening for them."

They all laugh, Harry hiccuping a little. Nick can feel Louis's laughter reverberate through his skull.

"I think I want wine," Daisy says. "Do you have wine?"

"Of course I have wine," Nick says. He pauses. "We have wine, right?"

"I think so," Louis says.

"I'm starving," Harry says. "Do we have food?"

"Yes," Nick says. "We probably have food."

Nobody moves. There's a skiffle band on TV. Nick squints at it. Louis is still running his hand through Nick's hair.

"Right," Daisy says, and stands up. "Drinks. Food. Everyone want drinks?"

"I still have beer left," Niall says, raising his glass. Nick's surprised no one has stumbled over it on the floor.

"Same," Louis says, yawning. "We're good."

"Okay, I'll see what I can find for the rest of us," Daisy says.

"How are you so awake?" Nick asks. "It's so late. It's late, isn't it? Am I just getting old?"

"Yes," Louis says, just as Harry and Daisy say, "No."

"I do want a drink, though," Nick says. "Please." He gives Daisy his best grin. She rolls her eyes, but heads into the kitchen. 

"It is late, right?" Nick asks Louis.

"It's around midnight," Louis says. "You're just old."

"I got up early!" Nick says. "Can't just sleep in like you, can I?"

"I'm sick!" Louis says, which means he's feeling a hundred percent better.

Nick catches Harry grinning at them. "What?" he asks.

"You're so weird," Harry says.

"We're not," Louis says.

"Not bad weird," says Harry. "You're just—tell them, Niall."

Niall cranes his neck to look up at them both. "You're cute," he says. "It's fucking weird. But sweet, so whatever, you know?"

"No," Harry pouts. "That's not what I meant."

"It's exactly what you meant," Niall says. "Shut up."

Harry sighs wearily. His eyes slip shut. He's going to fall asleep sitting upright, Nick's sure of it.

Anyway, that's not the point right now. "We're not weird," he says. "You're weird."

"Strong comeback," Louis says.

Before Nick gets the chance to reply, Daisy calls him. "Nick, babe, I can't find the wine glasses."

Nick groans. Daisy knows his kitchen like the back of her hand. He disentangles himself from Louis and stands up.

"Get me some cheese, will you?" Louis asks. "I'm feeling like cheese. And those tiny biscuits you bought yesterday?"

"Cheese and biscuits?" Nick asks.

"Yeah," Louis says. "And Niall wants crisps, right?"

"Would love crisps," Niall says. "D'you need help?"

God bless Niall Horan. "No, I'm good," Nick says. Louis sticks his leg out and pokes at Nick's thigh with his socked toes.

"I'd come help, but I'm terribly sick," he says.

"I know, I know," Nick says.

He leaves three fifths of One Direction in his living room and goes to talk to Daisy.

"So," Daisy says, as soon as Nick steps into the kitchen. She has a smirk on her face. She's holding the wine glasses. Nick rolls his eyes. "Aw, come on," Daisy says. "I'm just curious, Nick. It was a bit of a surprise, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Nick says. "I know. Sorry, by the way."

"You already said that, love," Daisy says. "Now I want to hear the details."

"What sort of details?" Nick asks. He finds a bottle of wine and sets it on the kitchen counter, and moves on to find cheese and biscuits and crisps, right.

"I don't know," Daisy says. "Is he living here?"

"No," Nick says. "What? No."

Daisy raises her eyebrows. She's staring at him as she's pouring out wine.

"You'll spill the wine," Nick says.

She fills their glasses without spilling a drop, of course. "He seems very comfortable here."

"So are you," Nick says. "You're not living here."

Daisy chews on her lip, and gets out a tray. Nick is fiddling with the biscuit jar. He doesn't know if he wants to have this conversation. Mostly he wants to go back to the living room and drink and cuddle with his boyfriend and not think about things like living arrangements or upcoming tours.

"We're also not dating," Daisy says. "We're friends. It's different, Grim."

"Louis and I are friends," Nick says. He'd like to think they're friends, at least. Not just people, like, dating or what the fuck ever.

"I'm just asking, love."

"And I'm telling you," Nick says. "No, we're not living together. He's staying here because he's poorly and he needs someone to look after him."

"He doesn't look poorly anymore," Daisy says.

"Um, you have seen the wound on his head, right? The stitches?" Nick asks. The wound is healing well, but still.

Daisy shrugs. "Anyway, he was perfectly lovely to me when we got here. Offered to play host and all. Asked us if we wanted anything."

"Really?" Nick asks.

"Yeah," Daisy says. "It was sweet."

"Well," Nick says. "Well, he's not living here."

Daisy shrugs. "Well, I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy. He does, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Nick says quietly after a moment. "Yeah, he—yeah."

Daisy smiles at him and ruffles his hair. "As long as he's good to you. That's what matters, love. I think we were all a bit worried when we heard you'd been keeping this a secret, but—"

"That's—" Nick says. "That wasn't because he wasn't—good. We're—he's great. God. Daisy, I really like him."

"Aw, darling," she says, and pulls him in for a hug. "I'm so glad. Just don't stop talking to us about this, yeah? You know you always can."

"I know," Nick says, hugging her back. They sway a little. "Of course I know."

"Good," Daisy says, and hands him a cheese plate. "Well, go on then, don't want the boys to starve."

Nick gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, and takes the plate out.

"Cheese and biscuits," he days, depositing them on the table in front of Louis.

"Cheers." Louis grins, and sits up, reaching for the biscuits first.

"Did you get crisps?" Harry asks. "You know, I could come help." He looks half asleep already.

"I know, popstar," Nick says. "No need." He hands Niall a packet of crisps, and goes to help Daisy to carry the drinks.

She sends him off with a glass and a tray of finger sandwiches that she magicked out of nowhere.

When he gets back to the living room, Louis is scowling at Harry, and Harry's looking unapologetic. "What?" Nick asks.

Louis looks up at him. "I do stuff for you," he demands. "Right?"

"Uh," Nick asks. "What kind of stuff?"

"I walked Pig today!" Louis tells Harry.

"Harry suggested it'd be nice if Louis helped you out around the flat instead of having you, like, wait on him," Niall says from the floor.

"But I do," Louis says. "Right? I even clean up after myself!" Nick raises his eyebrows. Louis frowns, and folds his arms. "Sometimes."

Nick sets the glass down at the table, shoves the tray at Harry, and sits down next to Louis on the sofa. Daisy gives them a curious look as she passes them by, two glasses in hand, but Nick ignores her.

"Hey," he says quietly, only for Louis. "This works. You don't need to do anything differently."

Louis doesn't look convinced, but when Nick tugs him close he goes easily, curling up against him.

"Yeah," he says, voice tight. "It's not Harry's fault he doesn't know what he's talking about."

Harry doesn't respond. Nick looks over at him. He's fallen asleep, head thrown back, mouth open. The tray is still on his lap.

"Oh my god," Nick says, giggling along with Daisy. It's just so _Harry_.

Louis hides his face against Nick's chest, shaking with laughter. It takes Niall a second to clue in what's so funny, but then he's losing it as well, and jesus, Nick hasn't heard anyone with a laugh as infectious as Niall's.

Harry only startles awake when Daisy takes the tray from him, and throws her legs over his lap.

"What?" he asks, eyes wide. "Is it time for the show?"

Nick laughs so hard that he almost wees himself. It's a good night.

~

Nick is absolutely fine in the morning. He's a bit bleary, and the way Louis clings to him when he tries to slip away makes it _really_ hard to get out of bed, but otherwise he's fine.

He gets through the show okay, and even the meeting after it, and then he makes it home, and lies down for a nap on the sofa, and wakes up feeling like absolute death.

He _hates_ hangovers like this. Sneaky buggers.

Louis isn't in the living room with him so Nick just curls up and moans, hoping he'll hear.

It takes a bit but finally there are footsteps, and then a hand on his forehead. It feels blessedly cool. Nick blinks his eyes open, and is met with Louis staring at him with his eyebrows raised.

"Hi," Nick says. "Everything's awful."

"You look green," Louis says.

"Terrible," Nick says. "Horrible. All those things."

Louis sighs, and leaves again. Nick squeezes his eyes shut and pretends he's not feeling like he's about to throw up.

Louis comes back, this time with paracetamol. Nick is really fond of him.

"Here," Louis says, and presses a couple of pills into Nick's palm. "Take these." He's holding a glass of water out to Nick.

Nick accepts it and takes the pills blearily. "Thanks."

"Are you going to be sick?" Louis asks. He wrinkles his nose. "I don't need to bring a bowl, do I? You're going to make it to the bathroom."

"Not going to be sick," Nick says. He doesn't _want_ to be sick. He thinks it qualifies. He can't believe he got this sick off wine.

"I'm going to get a bowl," Louis declares.

"Don't need it," Nick says again.

"I seriously doubt it."

"Shut it," Nick says. "We're pretending I'm not sick."

"You didn't even drink that much."

Nick groans into the cushion. "Enough."

"No, seriously," Louis says, and crouches down in front of the sofa. "It's scary how low your tolerance is getting in your old age."

Nick will not dignify that with a response. It's mean and he doesn't need to respond to it.

"Are you sure you're not just hungry?" Louis asks. "You were fine this morning."

"Oh no," Nick says automatically. "No food." Then he thinks about it. Maybe food would be a good idea. Maybe it's possible he's gotten sick and hungry confused again.

"Hey," Louis says, more softly now. Nick feels a hand in his hair. It's really nice. "Seriously, are you sure you don't want a toastie or something? It's either that or a bowl."

Nick lifts his head and blinks up at Louis. Louis doesn't move away; his fingers are gently carding through Nick's hair. It's _really_ nice.

"Maybe a toastie," Nick says. "I think I'm just hungry."

Louis laughs. "Of course."

"Hey, I could be seriously ill," Nick says.

"Or just hungry," Louis says. "It's hard to be sure, innit?"

Nick pouts. "You'll make me a toastie, right?"

"Course," Louis says. "Tea?"

"Sure," Nick says. "Yeah."

"Alright," Louis says. "Food and tea coming up." He pauses for a moment, then leans forward and presses a kiss to Nick's hair. It's weird, but nice. Usually Louis is only this sweet when he's had a few or right after sex. Nick likes it.

"You're being all nice," he says.

"I'm always nice," Louis says.

Nick laughs. It hurts his head. He has a hunger headache; now that Louis's mentioned it he's _starving_. "Ow."

"Serves you right," Louis says. "I'm a delight."

Nick grins. "You are," he says, poking Louis in the arm. Louis pulls a face at him, but he looks quietly pleased. "You're also a horror," Nick says. "But nice."

"Well," Louis says slowly. "You've been looking after me. So."

"Been looking after you 'cause I want to," Nick says. He's too honest when he's hungover.

"Well, that's why I'm doing it," Louis says. "So there."

Nick snorts quietly. The paracetamol is kicking in, he thinks. He also thinks he's going to be sick, so he closes his eyes and tries to will it away.

"Hey," he says suddenly. "It's not—it's not because of what Harry said last night, isn't it?"

"What did Harry say?" Louis asks. Nick squints at him. Louis's face looks impassive. He knows exactly what Nick's talking about.

"The thing," Nick says. "About you not doing anything around the flat. Because you do. I mean, you've been ill, of course, but like aside from that—you don't cook and stuff. And you're really messy, but you try to clean up after yourself and you look after Pig and sometimes you make me coffee when I get home. And you hate coffee."

Louis rolls his eyes. "I don't, like, _hate_ coffee."

"That's not the point," Nick says. "It's my flat. I like how you are, uh, in it. So, you don't have to change that. I told you."

Louis stares at Nick like he's slow. "So I shouldn't go get you food?"

"That's not what I said." Nick _needs_ food.

"Right," Louis says. "Okay then. I'm going to get that toastie. Because you're poorly, and I sort of care about you. Possibly a lot. So don't die in the meantime."

"Shh," Nick says. "I'm not poorly at all."

"Of course," Louis says. "You didn't get drunk off wine last night and then get an afternoon hangover like an old man. That's not what happened."

"Shut up," Nick mutters. Louis can't ever be sincere for too long. His hand on Nick's forehead lingers, though, before he gets up and heads to the kitchen. It doesn't exactly make Nick's headache disappear, that, but it's still nice.

~

Nick feels loads better after a good ham and cheese toastie and a cup of tea. Also once the paracetamol actually kicks in.

He's glad he doesn't have any work that evening; he and Louis end up parked in front of the telly again, fighting over what show to watch. They end up going with Home and Away because at least that doesn't require much attention.

Nick's wondering why no one on this show has parents when, out of nowhere, Louis says, "You know, I'm feeling a lot better."

"I know," Nick says. "Hence the sex we've been having. I was terrified of fucking you while you were still all poorly, I'll just have you know."

Louis covers his face with his hand. "Okay, first of all, a few blowjobs don't constitute as fucking—"

"They sort of do, probably," Nick says. "They definitely count as sex, don't you think?"

" _Secondly_ ," Louis says. "That's not actually what I wanted to talk about."

"Oh," Nick says. "Do you think Josh will take Evelyn back?"

"Yes," Louis says. "My publicist called me yesterday."

Nick frowns. "Is that unusual?" Caroline calls him every day. Or he'll call her up and bug her about an event or a meeting he zoned out of, and she'll sigh and be amazing. Nick loves Caroline.

"Not really," Louis says. "But, like, they said the fans were getting worried. Because I haven't been seen out, and I haven't been on Twitter or anything, and the next leg of the tour's coming up soon, and, well, all that." 

Nick doesn't really want to think about the next leg of the tour. It's going to be in Europe, at least. Louis won't fly halfway across the world again, not for a little while.

"Do you have to go outside, then?" Nick asks. "Or like be seen near your house or whatever? Wait, do they know you're staying here? Your PR people."

Louis shrugs. "Not really? I mean. It's not their business. At the moment."

Nick chews on his lip. "Alright." That makes sense, he supposes.

"They do want me to, like, be seen or be heard from at least," Louis says. "Something to keep fans calm and like they know how I'm doing, and everyone sees I'm fine. I don't know. They don't want any rumours, you know?"

"Yeah," Nick says. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm obviously not going out to some event," Louis says.

Nick privately thinks they should probably try to style his hair a bit better when he finally does, or goes out on tour; it's growing back slowly and awkwardly.

"And I don't really feel like going out to the shops and risk getting swarmed." Louis fidgets. "I hate that."

Nick presses his knuckles against Louis's thigh, calming. Louis sighs.

"Anyway, I told them that, and they suggested I do a quick interview or something. Just give a couple of quotes. Said it'd be more, like, personable than any sort of press release or whatever."

"We could have you on the show," Nick says. It probably wouldn't be too hard to set up. They don't even have to get him in for an interview, don't need to make a huge deal about it, especially if Louis doesn't really want to.

Louis doesn't say anything, which means he's probably already considered this option. Suddenly Nick really wants to make it work. If Louis is up for it.

"We could have a random Showquizness question about it and call you up. Or maybe say someone requested for you guys on the waking up song."

Louis wrinkles his nose. "Waking up song is too early. Besides, why would you call _me_ , then?"

"We could call Harry?"

"Then they'd think we're living together or something," Louis grumbles.

Nick hums. "We could call Niall? Could say we're doing it for Finchy. And then he's like, oh, hey, Louis is here too, and he's absolutely fine, and you could say hi. Or we could just call you, it wouldn't be too out of place." 

Except for the fact where half of Louis's fans probably still think Nick hates Louis or something, and Louis hates him. They don't let go of things easily. Nick knows. He got shit for the last Louis mention, the Monday after the accident.

"Maybe," Louis allows. "I mean, they could probably just put something out anyway, or stick a note in the bloody Sun or whatever. But maybe—I'd kind of like to say something, maybe. If the fans really are worried. So they'll see the next leg of the tour will be fine and all. And we're all fine."

"Yeah," Nick says, squeezing Louis's shoulder. "You are."

"Maybe the radio won't be such a bad idea," Louis says. "Like, make it clear enough that it's set up and not just a random call, but it won't be as, like, impersonal or scripted as an interview in a newspaper."

"Just think about it," Nick says. "I mean, you could just do something on Twitter or Instagram, of course. Youtube? Might be easier. I just thought—this would be, like—"

"Yeah," Louis says, cutting Nick off. "I know."

Nick breathes in. It would be a step. A very small first step, maybe. If they want to come out one day. Like, publicly. Nick knows they haven't talked about it, because they were so focused on coming out to their friends and family first, but it's something he has thought about. He wonders if Louis has, too.

"Okay," Nick says. "Just—consider it, maybe. As an option."

"I will," Louis says, softly this time. "I'm shit at Twitter anyway."

"You really are, love," Nick says. "Not even joking."

Louis huffs and punches him, getting him right near the armpit.

"Hey," Nick says, rubbing at the spot. That actually hurt. "Ow."

"That's what you get," Louis says. He looks mildly apologetic, though, and when Nick pouts at him he rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "There."

"That's not where it hurts," Nick says.

"I'm not kissing your armpit," Louis says. "I draw the line there."

"You draw the line at _armpit kissing_?" Nick asks.

"It's all sweaty," Louis says. "Why would I kiss your armpit?"

Nick stares at him. "You draw the line at _armpit_ kissing," he repeats. "But, like, not rimming?"

Louis goes pink. It's always delightful to see. Nick knows he flushes pretty bad himself, but with Louis it's just so satisfactory—the way his cheeks go red, the defiant yet embarrassed look on his face.

"That's different," Louis says. "Obviously that's different, that's, like, sex stuff. We're not getting off on me kissing your armpit, are we?"

Nick wrinkles his nose. "Probably not. No. Oh, yeah, no."

Louis huffs out a laugh. Nick wonders how getting off on armpit kissing would work. It couldn't be only armpit kissing, could it? Maybe it's just kissing all over the body—Nick could picture that, someone being turned on by that, maybe.

There's a beat, and then Louis groans, grabs Nick's wrist and kisses his arm, close to the armpit. "Fucking _there_ ," he says. "I hope you're happy now."

He stares up at Nick, expression mulish. Nick bursts out laughing.

"What was that?" he asks between gasps, and Louis tries to keep a scowl on his face. "You're ridiculous, oh my god."

"You said I should do it!" Louis says. He crosses his arms and turns away, sits back against the sofa. "Bet you thought I wasn't going to," he mutters.

Nick tries to muffle his giggles with his hand. He's so fond of this stupid boy.

By the time he gets himself under control Louis's mouth is twitching, like he's seconds away from breaking.

Nick lets out a long breath and wipes away a tear. God. "I am," he says. "By the way."

Louis furrows his brow. "Are what?"

Nick shrugs, feeling slightly nervous, but still sure of himself. "Happy now."

Louis smiles.

~

It's late when Nick gets home on Friday night, and the flat is dark and weird. Nick knew Louis was probably going to stay over at Liam's, but after so long it's odd not having him there.

They had Louis call into the show that morning. It went well; they tied it with a Showquizness question where they pretended Nick and Showbot didn't agree on an answer. Louis sounded a bit nervous on the phone, a bit awkward at first, but the reception on the text and on Twitter had been mostly positive, and "We're Glad You're Okay Louis" had been trending all day.

It had been weird talking to him, trying to act professional, when some of the team knew while others didn't. Louis apologised to the fans again for missing out on the shows, and joked about getting his stitches out. It was nice.

"Look," Matt said afterwards. "I'm still not sure why he called us up to do this, but it was good. Good job."

"Aw, thanks," Nick said, going for teasing, and tried to avoid Fiona smirking at him. Fiona wasn't subtle at all.

Louis had brought up the idea of going by Liam's the day before, so Nick wasn't surprised when he received a selfie of him, Liam and Zayn in the afternoon alongside a "don't wait up!" Nick popped home during a break before a meeting to drop Pig off with Emily, since he had a long day, and he figures it's probably too late to go pick her up.

So now the flat is empty and quiet. It's so eerie; it's like Nick's alone in the world. He shudders and goes and turns on all the lights. It makes him feel better to see traces of Louis and Pig everywhere, an empty cup on the table, dishes in the sink, all of Pig's toys everywhere.

He's not alone. He's just alone for one night. He'll be absolutely fine.

He's already planning on who to call over when his phone rings. The caller ID says "PAYNO!" (courtesy of Louis, obviously). Nick picks up, feeling a bit apprehensive.

"Hello?"

"Grimmy!" Liam says, voice cheerful. "Nick!"

"Hello, Liam Payne," Nick says, smiling. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Liam says. "Listen, Louis's on his way to you. We just put him in a taxi. Zayn thought maybe we should call you and ask you if you're home. You are home, right? He's on his way."

Nick blinks. "I thought he was staying at yours?"

"He said he wanted to go back home," Liam says easily. "Said he wanted to see you. And that my guest beds are terrible, which is a lie. Besides, he was half asleep on the sofa already. I have a _great_ sofa."

"Great," Nick says. "I'm sure you do, Liam Payne."

Liam laughs over the line. "You keep saying my full name. You're great."

Nick smiles. Liam's a sweet drunk, apparently. "You're great too, Payne. So you already sent Louis on his way, right?"

"Yeah, he should be there soon," Liam says. "Wait, did you tell me if you were at home? I was supposed to ask."

"I am," Nick assures him. "It's all good."

"Great," Liam says. "Zayn, he's at home!"

Nick winces as Liam shouts over at wherever Zayn might be.

"He gives a thumbs up," Liam tells him. "That's great. Look after him, right? He really cares about you."

Nick swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. "Yeah, I will. Of course I will. I—"

"What's that?" Liam asks, raising his voice again. He's loud, but still so cheerful. "Oh, he wouldn't shut up about you," he says, talking to Nick again. "Zayn told me to tell you that."

"Oh," Nick says. "Alright."

"So cute," Liam says. "But you better treat him right," he adds, voice serious all of a sudden. "Otherwise I'll—I'll do something. So watch out."

"I will," Nick promises again. "Treat him right, I mean." Of course Liam Payne's the mostly openly protective of the lot.

"Okay," Liam says. "Well, bye!"

The call goes dead abruptly. Nick blinks and shakes his head. This band.

He's getting a glass of water when the doorbell goes, followed by knocking. Nick hurries to the hall before Louis wakes the neighbours.

"Nick!" Louis says happily when Nick opens the door. "Hi!"

He's grinning wide, and stumbles a little on his way in.

"Hey, love," Nick says, steadying him. "You alright?"

"Wonderful," Louis says. "I'm great." He kicks his shoes off and beams up at Nick. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good, me," Nick says.

"Good," Louis says, and keeps grinning. He points at Nick. "I'm glad," he says with an important air.

Nick smiles, fond. "Oh, you're pissed."

"Only a bit," Louis says. "Just a bit, really." He pushes his hair away from his eyes, frowning when it falls right back. "Ugh. Too long."

"Yeah, you should really get a haircut," Nick says, and puts his arm around Louis's shoulders. "Also have some water, I think, before we go to bed."

Louis is warm and pliant and lets Nick guide him easily towards the bathroom.

"I'm going to assume you had a good time with the lads?" Nick asks.

"The best," Louis says. "Missed them. I kicked Liam's ass in FIFA. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

"I won't," Nick says. "Here, drink this." He holds out a glass of water for Louis, who frowns at it, but takes it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Louis asks, sounding put out.

"Drink it," Nick says. "Go on, then." It's sweet to see Louis like this, all soft and relaxed, but Nick's tired, and he really hopes Louis won't put up much of a fight about going to sleep. They can both get a bit stubborn when they've been drinking.

"Ugh," Louis says, but downs the glass of water. "Disgusting."

"Uh huh," Nick says. "You ready to go to bed, love?"

Louis looks up at that. "Liam said he can't—he can't picture us in bed. Together."

"Why is Liam Payne trying to picture us in bed together?" Nick asks, horrified.

"That's what I said!" Louis exclaims, waving the empty glass around. Nick carefully pries it from his hand. "Then Zayn told us both to shut up, because he was trying to watch some cartoons." He leans closer to Nick, like he's relaying a secret. "I think he just didn't want to admit he's tried to picture it, too."

Nick huffs out a helpless laugh. Louis's band is a lot. "But you had a good time, still, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," Louis says, and slumps against the sink. "Li didn't mean it in a bad way."

"Okay," Nick says. "Good. I mean, I sort of assumed you'd be staying there, so."

Louis shakes his head. "Wanted to come home."

Home. Right. It—it doesn't mean anything. Nick calls a lot of places home in his head. It doesn't mean _home_.

"I forgot my key, though," Louis says. "Sorry."

"That's fine," Nick says. 

"I left it on the hall table. Zayn wanted me to call and check if you were home before I left, but I knew you'd be."

Nick doesn't mention that the boys did check. He's too busy trying to remember whether he ever officially gave Louis the key. Maybe he should. Make it into, like, a gesture. But Louis has been using it for a week now, it'd probably be too late to make a thing out of it. God, Nick doesn't know.

"Nick," Louis says slowly. Nick blinks rapidly to focus. Louis looks all pale and far-away.

"Yeah?" Nick asks, reaching out. "You okay? Please don't be sick."

Louis shakes his head, and smiles again. "'M not gonna be sick. I'm great."

"That's good, love," Nick says, patting his arm. "Let's go to bed then, yeah?"

He pulls Louis back into the bedroom, trying to guide him towards the bed, but before he knows it Louis has somehow spun him around, and Nick's got his back against the wall and Louis is kissing him.

Nick kisses him back for a moment, taking hold of Louis's elbows and pulling him closer. Louis's mouth tastes of alcohol and weed, and Nick knows this isn't going any farther, not at the moment, but that's okay. They'll have other nights.

"Fuck," Louis says, panting against Nick's mouth. "Fuck, Nick. Please."

"What?" Nick asks, moving his hand to Louis's back. He still has a plan to move them to the bed, to get Louis to go to sleep. Well. He has half of a plan. "What do you want?"

"I don't—I don't know," Louis says, and hides his face against Nick's neck. "Just this? Can we stay here?"

"What, right here?" Nick asks. "When there's a lovely bed right behind you?"

Louis laughs. He's on his tiptoes, trying to press closer to Nick. Nick realises with a jolt that Louis is trembling.

"Hey," Nick says. "Hey, love, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Louis says, and kisses him again. "Nothing."

"What's going on then?" Nick asks.

"I woke up and you were there," Louis says, kissing Nick's jaw.

"Well," Nick says. "It is my bed."

"No," Louis says, and pulls back abruptly, his eyes wide. "No, no, at the hospital. I woke up and I was so scared, Nick." Nick's heart clenches, but Louis keeps talking. "I was scared, but, like, Zayn was there so I was probably okay, you know? But then _you_ were there. Nick, you came all that way."

"Of course I did," Nick says. He knows it had kind of freaked him out at first, how easily he dropped everything and flew out there, but if he really thinks about it there's no way he _couldn't_ have come.

"No, but I didn't know," Louis says. He leans closer again, resting his head on Nick's chest. "I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Nick asks, petting Louis's hair. He's probably going to feel like total shit tomorrow. That's going to be fun.

"That you cared," Louis slurs.

Nick stops, his stomach dropping. "What?"

"No, no, don't stop," Louis says. He pulls back again, searches out Nick's gaze. "No, Nick, not like that, okay, not like that."

"Not like what?" Nick asks. "What are you saying?"

"I was afraid," Louis says, and he sounds so frank about it, so open and honest, and Nick wants to tug him close and never let him go. 

Which is a bit much, probably, but whatever, it's late and Louis is drunk and Pig misses Louis when he goes away. Nick's allowed to be a bit much.

"I love you," Louis says. Before Nick can even get ready to say it back—because he _does_ and even though Louis is drunk and might not even remember this, Nick needs to _say_ it—Louis interrupts him. "I love you, okay, I really do, and I was so scared you wouldn't love me back. But you do. You do, right? That's why you came."

"I—" Nick says, feeling like someone's pulled the rug from under his feet. God. Louis.

"Nick?" Louis asks, voice plaintive. "I'm right, aren't I? Please, please tell me I got it right."

"Oh, love," Nick says, and pulls Louis in close, wrapping him up tight in his arms. "Of course. Of course you did."

Louis lets out a shuddering breath and presses his face against Nick's collarbone. "I knew it," he says. "I wanted—I wanted to be right so bad."

Nick chokes out a laugh. "You got it," he says. "You figured out my big secret."

Louis makes a strange sound, something between a gasp and a sob. Nick rubs his back. He's no longer trembling, a heavy weight against Nick.

"Don't make fun of me," Louis says.

"I'm not," Nick promises. He wouldn't. It might be his first instinct, usually; it's how he sometimes deals with, like, feelings, but Louis seems too fragile for that right now. He pushes Louis back a bit to get a good look at him. "Why would you think I didn't love you back?"

"I don't know," Louis says, sadly. "Why would you? I make everything harder for you. I messed up your friendships." Nick's shocked to see that his eyes are a bit damp. Oh god, Louis can't _cry_.

"You didn't," Nick says. "I promise, you didn't."

"Didn't want to hurt you," Louis says, his voice choked up. "I'm sorry I was scared. You said it was okay."

"It is," Nick says, petting Louis's hair again. "It's okay. You never hurt me."

"I was afraid that you'd figure out it wasn't worth it," Louis says. "That you wouldn't want to tell your friends anyway."

Nick takes in a deep breath. That's definitely something they'll have to unpack later, when he's not tired and Louis isn't drunk.

For now, Nick keeps soothing Louis's hair, says, "Don't be stupid, love. Of course it's worth it."

"I love you," Louis says again. "I really love you."

"God," Nick says. "Me too. I love you too."

It's late at night and his boyfriend is sloshed and close to crying. Nick figures he's allowed to be soppy.

"Can we go to bed now?" Louis ask. "'M so tired."

"Of course," Nick says, and kisses the top of Louis's head. Bed sounds _amazing_ right now.

He manages to get Louis's trousers and hoodie off, even though Louis isn't much help, and makes him lie down. Louis immediately curls up into a small ball. Nick wonders if he should get a bucket or something and put it next to the bed.

He settles for setting a glass of water and paracetamol on the bedside table, and hopes Louis will make it to the toilet.

Louis turns on his side and presses himself against Nick when Nick gets in bed. Nick wraps his arm around his shoulders and hopes Louis isn't going to be sick on him. (The worst thing is he probably wouldn't hold it against him. It must really be love.)

~

Nick wakes in the morning to the sound of Louis being sick in the bathroom.

His first thought honestly is, "Oh thank god, at least he didn't barf on me."

Then he checks himself for puke. Then he feels slightly guilty and goes over to check up on Louis.

Louis is slumped against the toilet, breathing shallowly.

"Good morning," Nick says.

"Fuck off," Louis mutters.

"Aw, love," Nick coos. "Feeling a bit sick?"

"I'm going to throw up on you," Louis warns.

"You can't reach me," Nick says.

Louis looks up at that, glaring. He's probably trying to seem threatening, but all he accomplishes is looking tired and ill, a little green around the edges. Something tugs in Nick's belly.

He crouches down next to Louis and pushes his hair away from his forehead. Louis closes his eyes and breaths in deep.

"Sorry," Nick says. "Can't help but tease."

"I know," Louis says. "You're awful like that."

"Like you're not the same."

Louis slowly opens his eyes. He looks exhausted. "I," he says, and swallows carefully, "made you a toastie the last time you were sick."

Nick rubs his thumb over Louis's forehead, soothing. "You did," he says. "Do you want something to eat then? I could cook something up."

There's a pause, and then Louis's eyes widen and he turns and pukes again. Lovely.

Nick pulls his hair away from his face—really does need cutting, that—and makes soft, hopefully comforting noises.

"Easy," he says. "Just get it all out, love."

"Shut _up_ ," Louis groans. "And get me some water."

"Did you see the paracetamol I left on the bedside table?" Nick asks as he's filling the glass.

"Yeah," Louis says. "Took it. Thanks."

"Alright," Nick says, and hands him the water. "Here you go, love."

Louis rinses his mouth, and makes a face. "Ugh."

Nick snorts. "Eloquent."

"Shut up," Louis says. "And get down here."

"Why?" Nick asks.

"Why are you asking so many questions?"

Nick rolls his eyes and settles next to Louis on the floor. Louis immediately leans against Nick's chest, and sighs. Nick wraps his arm around Louis's torso and tries to not coo.

"You're comfortable," Louis says. "My head hurts."

"Yeah," Nick says. "I'm padded."

"Shut up," Louis says. "We're cuddling, you're not allowed to be stupid right now."

Nick rests his chin on top of Louis's head. "Alright."

They're quiet for a while.

"The floor is really uncomfortable," says Nick.

Louis groans. "Are you serious?"

"It's seriously uncomfortable," Nick says. "It's bringing back all these memories. I once spent the whole day lying on the floor here when I had food poisoning or summat. It wasn't pretty."

"You're awful," Louis says. "Alright, help me up. I need tea."

"Can you stomach tea right now?" Nick asks.

"I can always stomach tea, don't be ridiculous."

Louis gets loud when he's feeling unsure about something, Nick's learnt. Loud and commanding. Louis likes his control.

"Right," Nick says, and stands, helping Louis up as well. "Tea."

~

Louis can't stomach tea. He gets through half the cup before his face goes pale and he bolts back to the bathroom. Pig runs after him, thinking it's a game.

Nick's just glad Louis didn't head for the kitchen sink, there are still dirty dishes in it. That wouldn't have been fun.

When Nick gets to the bathroom Louis's bent over the toilet once more and Pig's trying to get close enough to lick his face.

"Pig," Louis says. "Please, please not now."

Nick whistles and calls Pig over to him. She looks disappointed, but comes anyway.

"Hey," Nick says, petting her. "Lou's feeling a bit poorly now, you shouldn't bother him. Go play with your toys, yeah?"

She drops down to the floor and rolls over to show Nick her belly. Nick scratches it, because how can he resist that, really? His dog is obviously the cutest.

"Ugh," Louis says. Nick looks up to see him carefully standing up, and wiping at his mouth. Gross.

"You alright?" Nick asks. Louis seems to have a bit more colour to him.

"Bit better," Louis says. "I think. Tea has betrayed me."

"Oh no," Nick says, mock-horrified. "Will you be forced to switch to coffee?"

Louis gives him an unimpressed look.

"I could make you a cup," Nick suggests, actually serious this time.

"No," Louis says, eyebrows drawing together. "Obviously not. God, Nick."

He seems so offended by the thought Nick can't help but laugh.

Louis frowns. "Stop laughing at me."

"'M not laughing at you," Nick says. "Just at your face."

"That's the same!" Louis says.

Nick giggles. Louis huffs and stalks past him, leaving Nick and Pig in the bathroom. Nick looks at Pig. She's staring at him, a serene look on her face.

"You're a good dog," Nick says.

Pig seems to smile.

"You really need to learn how to pee in the rain, though," Nick says. "But it's okay. We'll work on it."

Pig rolls over onto her stomach and nudges Nick's hand with her snout.

"Oh, what?" Nick asks. "You think I should go and check if Lou's okay? Should I do that?"

She looks highly unimpressed. Kind of like Louis, really, only more dog.

"Fine," Nick says. "Let's go see if he's feeling better."

Louis is curled up on the sofa in the living room with a blanket over him. It reminds Nick of last week, when Louis was still feeling sick from the accident and Nick couldn't stop hovering and, like, _worrying_. (He wonders if he'll always feel like this when Louis is ill now.)

"Hey," Nick says. "You need anything?"

"We should probably talk," says Louis.

Nick pauses. "We should?" Oh god, what's happened now?

Louis fixes him with a stare. "About last night?"

"Oh," Nick says. "Oh, yeah, alright."

"Right," Louis says. He fiddles with the blanket, hands restless, but he doesn't look away from Nick. "I said—I told you that I love you, didn't I?"

"Yes," says Nick.

"You said it back," Louis says quickly. "I remember you saying it back."

Nick swallows. "I did." He steps closer and sits down next to Louis. Talking. Right, he can do that.

"You meant it," Louis says. "Right?"

Nick frowns. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

Louis tilts his head. "No reason I can think of."

"Well," Nick says, feeling flustered. "There. I love you."

Louis's whole face transforms as he smiles, eyes crinkling. He looks so pleased; it makes Nick go all warm.

"Of course," he says. "I'm very lovable."

Nick snorts. "Yeah, darling. You definitely are."

"You're okay yourself," Louis says.

"Yeah," Nick says. "Just okay. I guess you'll have to settle for me."

He doesn't mean it, really. He feels like neither of them are settling in this situation. Nick hates the thought of settling. He just wants _love_. He's always wanted an obsessive kind of love; he just didn't expect it to come with this sort of comfortable domesticity. Especially considering who he's dating.

Louis digs his fingers into Nick's thigh, gripping tight. "Shut up," he says. "You're—fuck, Nick, I really like you. You know I do."

Nick smiles. "Like?"

"Love," Louis says. "But 'like' is important, too. My mum always says you have to like and love a person to be with them. One isn't enough."

"Oh," Nick says. "That's really good."

"My mum's really great," Louis says. He's idly rubbing Nick's thigh, like he doesn't even realise he's doing it.

Nick scoots even closer to him on the sofa. Louis spreads the blanket over Nick's legs as well. It's sweet. They're pretty much cuddling. There's a blanket.

"How much do you remember from last night?" Nick asks. "Do you remember me telling you you were ridiculous for thinking—all that stuff you said?"

Louis picks at a thread in the blanket. "I remember."

"Because it was pretty ridiculous," Nick says. "Kind of stupid even."

"Maybe," Louis says. "I hear you on the radio, you know."

Nick frowns. "What do you mean?"

Louis shrugs. "You're always talking about how you get bored easily. How you get obsessed and then just stop caring."

"Do I?" Nick asks.

"Yeah, you do," Louis says. "You say you'll be obsessed with someone and then you'll be over them."

"Yeah, of celebrities!" Nick says. "Not _people_. Not people in my life."

Louis groans and covers his face with his hands. "I just figured you'd get bored of me. Like, especially when we went on tour. That you'd just forget, I guess."

"But I didn't," Nick says.

"No, I know," Louis says. "I mean, I sort of knew. We had a proper Skype schedule and all, and I was—I was ready to tell people on my own, you know that, right? That we were dating."

"I know," Nick says. They've talked about it several times.

"I mean, I knew it'd be difficult, and I'm—my friends, I'm still, like, figuring that part out, but—"

"I know," Nick interrupts him. "You've—is it going to sound really patronising when I say that you've done really well?"

Louis screws up his face. "Maybe. But I—uh, I like to hear that, I suppose."

Nick wraps his arm around Louis's shoulder and gathers him up close. He can do encouragement. It might come out sounding cheesy, but he means it.

"You're doing really well, telling people," Nick says. "And with, like, talking to people about it."

Louis squirms a little, but then sighs and melts against Nick's side.

"I kept waiting for it all to go tits up. That'd you'd just say, hey, bored of this now, so, like, bye."

Nick stares at him. "First of all, that's really not how I break up with people I've been properly dating for _months_. And in what universe would I get bored of _you_? Love, if anything, it's going to be the other way around."

"You could find someone better," Louis says, ignoring him.

"What?" Nick asks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can find someone who's out. Someone who's better at it, someone who's nicer—"

"Louis—"

"Someone who wasn't terrified at the thought of telling his friends, someone you can, god, fucking hold hands with on the street if you want to."

Nick strokes Louis's back. "You've never thought about coming out?"

"Of course I have," Louis says. "Just, it'd be difficult, and everyone would say horrible things about you—"

"They already do," Nick points out.

"I _know_ ," Louis says. "I know, and I can't do anything about it, I don't know what to do about it."

"Okay," Nick says, and pulls Louis in for a proper hug. "Alright, you clearly need to stop thinking so much. That's not a healthy level of worries to have. Trust me, I'd know."

Louis chokes out a laugh, and hides his face against Nick's neck.

"What are you worried about then?"

"Loads of things," Nick says. "But it's better to just go with it, you know. Not overthink it."

Louis sighs, and wraps his arms around Nick's waist. He's warm and soft and Nick had no idea he had thought about their relationship so much.

"I can't believe you didn't know I was proper in love with you," Nick says. "Wasn't I obvious? It was pretty obvious."

Louis nips at Nick's neck. "Was it?"

"I flew half-way across the world," Nick says.

"I know," Louis says. "That's when I figured it out. Well, not the flight part, that's not really that impressive. But that you came. That you were there and put up with me when I was a mess and all."

"How is that not impressive?" Nick asks. "We don't all fly for a living. All my friends thought I'd gone mad."

"Your friends fly over to America all the time," Louis says.

" _Planned_ trips," Nick says. "Also why are we talking about my friends?"

"You brought them up," Louis mutters. "Also you haven't told me what you're worried about."

Nick pauses. "What?"

"You said you worried too," Louis says. "What could you possibly worry about?"

"Well, you, for starters," Nick says, and gently touches Louis's temple, right next to the wound.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a hazard to myself and society, I know."

"No," Nick says. "That's not it. Just hoping you don't get hurt again, you know. Don't think I could handle it."

Louis just looks at him. "Oh," he says finally. "Yeah, that's—that's how I feel about you, really."

Nick bites his lip. "We're awful at this, aren't we?"

"At what?" Louis asks, frowning.

"Talking about feelings," Nick says. "Well, I am. I'm terrible at feelings in general." He shudders.

Louis smiles. "You're selling yourself short, mate."

"I'm really not," Nick says.

"But you're always so—you're sweet," Louis says. "You're, like, properly affectionate with people. You know how to show people you like them."

"I feel like I was pretty bad at it if you didn't clue in," Nick says.

"That's not—that was just me," Louis says. "I knew you cared. I was just afraid you'd stop."

"Ridiculous," Nick says. He breathes in deep. There is something that he's been worrying over, but he's not sure how to bring it up. He knows he should just take the plunge—it's open floor, apparently, for like, relationship stuff at the moment.

But it's nice right now, and Louis is hungover and cuddly, and Nick doesn't want to mess it up by bringing up something like this.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks. "I'm feeling like breakfast."

"Head still hurts," Louis says. "I'm so tired of that."

Nick clucks his tongue and gently strokes Louis's brow.

"I don't think I'm up for food yet. You can go make something for yourself, though, I suppose."

"How gracious of you," Nick says, laughing. "I'm so glad I have permission to move about my own flat."

Louis makes a face at that; Nick can't figure out his expression. He presses a kiss to Louis's forehead instead before standing up.

"Right," he says, and clasps his hands together. "Food. Uh, yell if you need anything I guess?"

"And you'll come running?" Louis asks, raising his eyebrows. "My hero."

Nick waves him off and hurries to the kitchen. Food. Or just coffee to start, maybe. Actually, he's sort of feeling waffles right now.

He's setting up the coffee machine when Louis says, "I think I'll try ginger tea."

Nick startles, and bangs his foot against the counter. "Fuck. Ow, fuck."

"Alright?" Louis asks, walking into the kitchen. "What are you so jumpy about?"

"Not jumpy," Nick says, voice tight. His foot just hurts. (And his brain is getting away from him, a little, maybe.)

"Huh," Louis says. "You are. You've got that face."

Nick frowns. "What face?"

"The face you get when you're nervy," Louis says, like it's perfectly obvious. "What is it?"

"I—" Nick starts. Oh, fuck it. If he doesn't say it now the spare key will sit on their hall table forever, and see, Nick's already thinking of it as _their_ table, even though he bought it and he owns it and Louis doesn't actually _live_ here.

"Nick?" Louis asks, hesitant now. "What, did you change your mind?" He laughs nervously.

"Are you living here?" Nick asks.

Louis stares at him. "What?"

"Are you living here?" Nick asks. "Or, I mean, do you want to? It's just half your stuff is here, and I know you came here because you didn't want to be alone after the accident, and you needed someone to look after you and am I totally jumping to conclusions? I'm jumping to conclusions. We haven't been together for half a year yet. Why would we live together, that's—that's too fast. Isn't it?"

Louis is fully gaping at him now. "Wow. Talk about overthinking."

"Lou," Nick says. "Seriously, help me out here. I've no idea what I'm doing! I've never had a proper long-term relationship. It's too soon to be living together, right? It probably is."

"Well," Louis says. "Sort of, yeah." He sits down at the table, lounging, and spreads his arms. "But that's why I'm not, like, selling my house."

Nick glares.

"But," Louis says, "that doesn't mean you can't give me your spare key. If you want to, I mean. Do you—uh, would you want to? I mean, I use it all the time anyway."

"I was going to do it last week," Nick says. "I think. Like give it to you proper. But then you found it and I didn't know how to go about it, and, like, you're always _here_."

"Well yeah," Louis says. "I like being here."

Pig comes running in then, probably looking for food. Louis picks her up easily and coos at her.

"You don't mind me being here, do you, Pig? No, you like it when I'm here."

Nick huffs. "I don't mind either!"

"Then what's the problem?" Louis asks, and settles Pig on his lap. She curls up and goes to sleep. Lazy dog.

"I don't know," Nick says. "I suppose—I just thought it might be too fast. I—I sort of want you around all the time. I'm not really used to my boyfriends, like, being around so much."

"But you don't mind," Louis says slowly. "So it's—like, it's fine, right?"

"Right," Nick says. "I suppose so."

"And I like being here," Louis says. "And you honestly weren't kidding when you said you think too much, too."

Nick laughs. He feels both exhausted and relieved.

"So," Louis says. "To, uh, recap this—"

"We're both stupid," Nick says. "But somehow managed to have an actual conversation about it, so we're properly growing as people?"

"Something like that, I reckon."

"Excellent," Nick says. "Can we talk about something else now? Anything, honestly. Football?"

Louis laughs, hiding his mouth with his hand. "You're full of it, you'd be begging me to stop five minutes in."

Nick raises his eyebrows. "Begging, eh?"

Louis flushes. Nick grins at him. He never expected Louis to be such an easy blusher, and so—not shy, but easily flustered, in a way.

"Anyway," Louis says. "I like being here, you don't mind me being here, and we both, like, proper fancy each other."

"I believe the word you used was 'love'," Nick says, because teasing comes easy.

Louis wrinkles his nose. "Yes, yes, it's a beautiful thing between two grown-ups—"

Nick laughs. "Shut up."

Louis smiles and scratches Pig behind her ear. "Hey," he says. "We're going on tour again soon."

"I know," Nick says. He'd honestly rather not think about it. Louis's going to miss Nick's birthday.

"I think we're all planning on mostly flying back to London every night, since we're so close and all."

"Oh," Nick says. "Fancy, that."

"Shit, isn't it?" Louis says. "It's ridiculous. Uh, anyway—it'll be pointless going back to the house, and I—I want to come back here."

"That's—" Nick says. "Yeah, I'd like that. Obviously."

"Good," Louis says. "Great. Like, honestly, if you need me to just not be here, like if you need the place to yourself on some days then you should tell me. I can clear out for a bit."

"Yeah," Nick says. He's not sure he wants that. He genuinely loves having Louis around. It still feels a bit scary, but he thinks he's getting over that. It's a bit steadier, now he knows they're on the same page.

"But not for too long," Louis says. "Pig would probably miss me."

"I'd miss you," Nick says impulsively.

Louis bites down on a smile. "Yeah, same. Also I've got used to sharing a bed with someone. Sleeping alone at the hospital was awful."

"That's because it was a hospital bed," Nick says. "Of course it was awful."

"Well," Louis says. "Still."

"You can take the key with you," Nick says.

"What?"

"To tour," Nick says. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous. "You should take the spare key. Just in case."

"Oh," Louis says. "Alright, yeah. I will."

"Good," Nick says. It's not a huge gesture, but he's not very good at those. Louis doesn't seem to mind, though.

"You know what?" Louis asks.

"What?"

Louis pulls a thoughtful face. "I think I'm ready for food."

"Nice change of subject," Nick says.

"I'm an expert," Louis says. "And I'm starving. I want pancakes."

"Oh god, that sounds great," Nick says. "Are you sure, though? You're still looking all 'ohhh, not feeling so good'."

Louis pats his stomach. "I'm hungry. Feed me." Nick raises his eyebrows. "And maybe I'll—like, do the dishes later," Louis adds. "Since I'm staying here so much and all."

"You're never going to do the dishes," Nick says.

"I can _try_ ," Louis says. "I just forget. I can do the dishes."

"What about laundry?"

Louis scrunches his nose. "I'll go and bring some clothes from the house."

"Uh, what about the shirts you've stolen from me?"

"Well, they're yours, aren't they?" Louis asks. "That means you have to wash them."

Nick laughs. "Oh my god. This is a horrible idea, isn't it?"

He doesn't mean it. Louis seems to get that. He walks over and wraps his arms around Nick for a hug.

"Well," Louis says, and squeezes just a tad too tight. "Too late now, innit? You already gave me a key. Can't get rid of me now."

Nick tries to think of something to say that won't sound terribly soppy, but he can't come up with anything. He rests his chin on Louis's head and says, "I'm so gone for you it's embarrassing."

"Me too," Louis says against his chest. "Also it is pretty embarrassing, babe, not gonna lie."

"Shut up," Nick says.

"Have all your friends been teasing you about it?" Louis asks. "You flying all the way to LA because you were so worried. About me."

"Oh, mercilessly," Nick says. It seems to please Louis; he tickles Nick's sides and pulls back to grin up at him. "Has Zayn teased you about you thinking you were either dreaming or _dead_ when I showed up in the hospital room?" That still hits him sometimes when he's lying in bed with Louis curled up next to him. The look on Louis's face.

"No," Louis says immediately. "I don't know what you're talking about. That didn't happen."

Nick leans down. "I really want to kiss you," he says. "But I'm like a hundred percent sure you haven't brushed your teeth."

"Way to be romantic," Louis says. He brushes a kiss against Nick's cheek. "Make me food and maybe I'll consider it."

Nick kisses his nose. Louis makes a face. Nick's so horribly fond of him.

"You're so weird," Louis says.

"You're cute," Nick says. "It's awful. I'm going to order some crepes and if you manage to not throw up from them then we should fuck."

"Again," Louis says, "super romantic."

He tangles their fingers together and brings Nick's hand up to drop a kiss to the back of it.

Nick stares at him. "Are you demonstrating how to be romantic?"

"Obviously," Louis says. "I'm an expert." He gently bites at Nick's wrist. Nick loves him.

Louis manages to not throw up after inhaling two crepes, but he does feel a bit delicate. Nick curls up on the sofa with him and lets Louis whine while Nick catches up with his friends. It's okay; they have time.

~

"Grim!"

Nick spins around, and runs smack into Aimee. "Aimee!" he cries, and picks her up in a hug. Someone's drink sloshes over. Whatever. Nick's shoes are probably ruined already. It's his birthday, it's allowed.

"Hi, love," Aimee says, hugging him tight. "Happy birthday."

"When did you get here?" he asks, putting her down. "I missed you!"

"Missed you too," Aimee says. "We need to catch up soon."

"Obviously," Nick says. "Me, you and Ian. Our usual threesome."

Aimee laughs. "I don't think your boyfriend will be very thrilled about that."

"He'll learn to live with it," Nick says. "I can't let Ian go, no one's better than Ian. I need to know what his next dot-to-dot masterpiece is going to be!"

"Oh, shut up," Aimee says.

"I'm serious!" Nick insists. He is serious; he loves Ian. And Aimee, his darling Aimee. "I love you," he says. "You're here! I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too, love," Aimee assures him. "Where is the boyfriend, by the way?"

Nick scans the crowd. "There," he says, pointing at where Louis is chatting with Niall and Liam. They arrived separately to the party, but Louis spent the whole day at Nick's, so it didn't really matter much.

Four fifths of One Direction are at the party, though, so no one will probably suspect anything. (Not the press, anyway.) Nick's looking forward to dragging Louis away to the toilets at some point during the night. He keeps getting distracted by all the people here, and there was cake, and singing, and it doesn't really have the same vibe as his 30th did, but it's _fun_.

Louis, though. Louis's always in the back of Nick's mind, just sort of waiting there. Nick saw him talking to Gillian earlier, and he couldn't hide his grin. Louis hasn't exactly bonded with many of Nick's friends, but it's been going mostly okay. It's early stages there, still. 

"Hmm," Aimee says. "It's going well then? I heard they were on tour."

"Yeah, they have tonight off," Nick says. "Lucky for them. Would be awful to miss the best party of the year, right?"

Aimee laughs again. Nick's glad. Everyone seems to be having a great time, and _Nick_ is having a great time, and it's been an amazing birthday so far. He thinks he's finally accepted getting older and is just rolling with it. (Sure, he sometimes panics and complains, but he's also learning to appreciate it.)

Besides, Nick's the automatic centre of attention, so there's nothing really that could be better.

"You're coming tomorrow, right?" Nick asks.

The smaller party, for family and close friends is happening on Saturday. Nick's not sure why they planned it after this one, he's going to be horribly hungover, but he doesn't particularly care about that right now.

Louis will be around for the first half before he has to leave to get on a plane to make it to a show in Paris. Nick said he didn't need to be there, but Louis had ignored him. It makes Nick feel more than he knows how to deal with, honestly.

"Of course I'm coming," Aimee says. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Great," Nick says. "Good, good. Lou'll be there so you'll get to, like, properly meet him, if you want to. It'll be great. He's great, honest."

Aimee raises her eyebrows at him and tilts her head at him. "Oh, Grim," she says. "You're actually gone for him, aren't you?"

"Shh," Nick says. "It's a secret." He looks over at Louis again; he's laughing with Niall about something, bent over his middle. Nick's glad he's having a good time and that the other boys could come, too. 

"It doesn't look like it is," Aimee says. She's smiling at him. "I mean, it was pretty obvious, the way you talked about it when you called, but seeing it is—different."

Nick shrugs. "Well. I just—I really like him, Aims."

Aimee's smile is soft. "I'm glad," she says, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, there's Alexa. I'll see you later, love."

"Bye!" Nick calls after her, smiling. "Be safe! Remember you have a boyfriend!"

She gives him the finger over her shoulder and he laughs.

When he turns around he runs into another friend, and then another, and another. It's the best part of birthday parties—how he knows everyone already loves him, so he doesn't have to show off as much to get their attention. He'll just show off because he wants to.

He's not sure if it's minutes or hours later when he runs into Louis on the edge of the dance floor.

"Hey!" he says happily. "What brings _you_ to this fabulous party?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Ha ha," he says.

"Do you like it?" Nick asks. "It's great, isn't it? You're having fun, right?"

"Yeah, it's good," Louis says. "It's your party, though. Are _you_ having fun?"

Nick grins. "So much. Obviously."

Louis smiles. "Obviously. Oh, I actually wanted to talk to you. I have some goss for you."

"Oh, I love it," Nick says. Louis has tried to pretend he doesn't care about celebrity gossip, but Nick likes to think he's brought out that side of him. They're both shameless, but good at keeping secrets. From other people. Ha.

"Guess who I walked in on in the toilets," Louis says.

"Ooh, who?" Nick asks, excited. "Who, come on, tell me, I'm awful at guessing."

Louis leans in conspiratorially. Nick wraps his arm around his waist. It's to hear him better. "Get this," Louis says. "It was Harold and _Daisy_."

Nick gasps. "Those slags!"

"Right?" Louis says. "I don't think they even noticed me."

"Getting off at my party," Nick says. "Before me!"

"I blew you before we came here," Louis says, rolling his eyes.

"Doesn't count," Nick says, and leans down to kiss Louis's cheek. Louis's fingers clutch at Nick's waist. They're walking on thin ice, Nick knows. Neither of them pulls away.

Nick trusts most of the people here. And he trusts the rest of them to go by the usual celebrity code. 

Still, it means a lot that Louis isn't moving away. Nick would let him, of course he would, but he doesn't want him to.

It's better now that their friends know, the people who matter. Still, Nick knows it'll get tiring at some point, hiding from the public, but he figures they can deal with it then.

He thinks they're moving in the right direction. Ha, direction.

Nick chuckles. "We're moving in the right direction," he tells Louis. "Because there's only one. Direction."

Louis steps back and stares at him. "Oh my god," he says. "You're just like Harry. You're awful, why am I even—"

"Oh!" Nick says, reminded of Harry. Harry and Daisy, right. When he looks back at the previous month and thinks really hard he might have suspected something was going on.

Doesn't matter, though, he'll get everything out of them later. For now he gets out his phone and texts Daisy a row of aubergines and a _Next time lock the door!_ along with eye emojis and hearts.

She doesn't reply, of course. Probably too busy to, what with Harry snogging her face off. Or her snogging Harry's face off. There's definitely face snogging. He sends Harry an aubergine and heart-eyes.

"Hey," Louis asks. "Do you want to, like. Get away for a second?"

"Yes," Nick says immediately. "Can you believe Daisy's not answering me? I'm going to tease her about this tomorrow."

"Why?" Louis asks. "Haven't they hooked up before?"

"Ages ago," Nick says. "Besides, you caught them. That's, like, it's allowed to tease friends when you catch them."

"True," Louis says. "Are you coming then?"

"Where?" Nick asks, following Louis. They end up in a mostly quiet corner underneath the stairs.

"Found this place earlier," Louis says. "Thought it'd come in handy."

"Impressive," Nick says. "Very Bond of you."

"You've never seen an entire Bond film in your life," Louis says.

"That doesn't matter," Nick says. "Obviously I can still make Bond references, everyone can."

Louis pulls him down for a kiss instead of answering. Nick's hand goes to the small of Louis's back, fitting them even closer together. The kiss is slow and deep, and Nick has to rest his forehead against Louis's to catch his breath afterwards.

It's so intimate, here in this little corner, just for them, and Nick still can't get over how good that feels.

"Hey," he says softly. "It's been a fun party, right? You're not regretting coming?"

"Course not," Louis says. "It's your birthday. I wouldn't have missed it."

"But you've had a good time?" Nick stresses. He wants everyone to enjoy themselves, but he wants Louis to the most.

"It's been fun," Louis says. "Stop stressing."

Nick makes a face. "I'm not."

"You are," Louis says. "Everyone's having a good time as long as you are, you know."

"I'm having a great time," Nick says. "It's so much fun."

Louis laughs. "I know. And I'm fine, yeah? I've got the lads, and a lot of your friends have been, like, nice, and I'm glad I could be here."

"I suppose that's good enough," Nick pouts.

"Oh god," Louis says. "What do you want me to say? It's been sick. Fabulous. Amazing. All that. I don't know any more words."

"Okay, I get it," Nick says, and kisses Louis's temple, the one where a scar is hiding underneath Louis's hair. "I just worry, okay. You know you make me fuss, it's a terrible look."

"Yeah, it's completely my fault," Louis says.

"Mm," Nick says, and kisses Louis's cheek, the corner of his mouth. "Not really. 'M just being stupid. You can look after yourself, I know." It doesn't mean he doesn't feel this weird urge to gather Louis close from time to time and keep him _safe_. Nick's not usually very possessive, and he's not with Louis either, not really. He just wants to make sure he's okay. That's all. It's not weird.

"Well," Louis says after a short pause. His voice is quiet. "I might be the same about you. But you can't prove anything."

Nick smiles. "Hey, I'll see you later, yeah?" He'd stay here for longer, but he doesn't want to go missing for too long from his own party. There's still people he hasn't had the chance to see.

"Yeah, obviously," Louis says.

They can't leave the party together, because Nick's absolutely certain he couldn't keep his hands off Louis, and they're not ready for those kinds of headlines yet.

They'll get there someday, Nick thinks. He wants to; he wants to reach that point. For now, though, the knowledge that Louis will be there tomorrow with his family and his closest friends is enough. Knowing that they'll spend tonight together is enough.

"Right," Nick says. "I'm should probably get back out there." 

"Okay," Louis says, and gives Nick a quick kiss. "See you at home."

_Yeah_ , Nick thinks.

_Home_.

**Author's Note:**

> [The original conversation](http://greedydancer.tumblr.com/post/82116103586/a-tiny-nick-louis-h-c-story) that inspired the story.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come say hi on [my tumblr!](http://underthisweather.tumblr.com/)


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